


Blazing Colors - Finale of Beauty and the Beast

by sxctumsempra



Series: Beauty and the Beast [DM] [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 20:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 46
Words: 77,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13039236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxctumsempra/pseuds/sxctumsempra
Summary: Voldemort is back. He's gaining power. He's managed to bring about the downfall of Albus Dumbledore, the one wizard that he was afraid of. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley have not returned for their seventh year at Hogwarts, and no one knows where they are. Lizzie Samuels and Draco Malfoy have returned to Hogwarts, however, but the school is not the same. With Snape as the headmaster and a new pair of siblings in charge of discipline, anyone would give anything to go home. Lizzie and Draco, now known Death Eaters, fight through their seventh year, trying to follow their morals and stay at live at the same, and it's not as easy as it sounds.





	1. Chapter 1

Lizzie’s POV:

I brought my trembling hand up to the surface of the door and tapped my knuckles on it a few times, the sound so soft that it was hardly audible. My eyes locked on a chip in the paint of the white door, and I realized that the hot tears were already trickling down my face.

I heard a dull thud and a curse before Grayson opened the door and asked, “Lizzie?” confused by my sudden appearance.“What are you doing here?” His eyebrows drew tightly together tightly upon seeing the tears on my face and he paled significantly.

“We need to talk,” I croaked out, my voice raspy from the hours that I had spent wailing in Draco’s arms. I kept my eyes fixed on the tips of his shiny, black shoes, not wanting to allow him to look into my eyes and figure out what was wrong. He had always been good at that.

“Erm - come on in,” he replied quietly, opening the door wider.

After my mum had died, I had felt utterly suffocated, as if someone had been holding their hands around my neck. I told Draco that I needed out, that I needed to get away for a while. At first he had offered to come with me, but when I told him I needed to be alone for a bit, he had agreed and told me to take my time, that he would be there when I came back.

The room I walked into seemed to be the living room. The walls were pristinely white, as was the furniture. There was nothing on the walls save for the generic sunrise art over the sofa. Said sofa faced a telly that sat on a dark oak table. I didn’t notice one personal photo in the room, but was too upset to mention it. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” he offered stiffly, waving his hand towards the sofa. I sat down with a nod and fixed my gaze on a grain of wood in the table in front of me.

“Would you like some tea?” Gray asked awkwardly.

“N-no,” I stuttered, wiping my tears away with a hand

He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his eyebrows, knowing that I almost never turned down a cuppa. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Hogwarts still?” He asked as he set about making the tea anyway. He summoned a tea kettle and filled it with water before heating it up with a heating charm. “Isn’t there, what, a week and a half left?”

“Yeah,” I replied, struggling to force the next words from my lips. “But we finished the task.”

He froze with his hand hovering over the handle of the kettle. “You mean…?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, wiping the tears from my face while he wasn’t watching. “Dumbledore is d-dead.” 

The emerald light slammed into his chest, right over the place where his heart was, and his body fell backwards over the railing of the Astronomy tower, seemingly suspended in mid air for a moment before he tumbled from sight-

“Oh.” He replied, knitting his eyebrows together before continuing with the making of the tea. “Um, congrats?”

“Don’t congratulate me,” I snapped through my teeth.

I saw Gray flinch in the corner of my eye. “Sorry,” he whispered with shame as he levitated two white mugs towards me. “So where is he?” 

“Dumbledore?” I frowned as Gray placed one of the steaming cups of tea on the table in front of me. I stared at it and tried with all my might to keep the image of Dumbledore falling over the railing of the Astronomy Tower from my mind. “He’s-”

“Draco,” he corrected quickly, sitting on the sofa beside me and taking a sip of his tea. His sandy colored hair fell partially over his eyes before he brushed it away.

“Malfoy Manor,” I muttered, eyes still locked on the cup of tea. The sugar was stil swirling around on the surface. “I had to get out.”

“I don’t blame you,” he shrugged casually. “That place is rather foreboding.”

“Yeah,” I uttered, preparing myself for the news. “B-but there’s more.”

He took a long sip of his tea with furrowed eyebrows. “More bad news?” I nodded slowly. “What is it?” he asked, suddenly grave. 

I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut. “You-Know-Who kidnapped m-mum as a message to me and Draco to hurry our task up and to remind us what would happen if we failed.”

“I remember,” he grunted with his lips pursed together in a straight line.

“Well, after Draco and I - erm - you know - we fled Hogwarts. We apparated to Malfoy Manor where Mrs. Malfoy contacted You-Know-Who. He wanted to talk to us and we were hardly anyone to refuse his company, so we met with him-” I rushed, trying to get it all over with.

“You met with the Dark Lord?” he interrupted, as if that was the surprising part.

“Let me finish,” I snapped sharply, trying to get this all done.

He flinched slightly. “Sorry.”

“We spoke with him and I demanded that he give mum back.”

“You demanded something from You-Know-Who and he didn’t kill you?!”

“Yes, I did,” I retorted quickly and even more sharply. “I was scared for her, and I wanted her back. So I demanded that he give her to me.”

He paused for a moment and glanced down at his shoes. “And did he?”

“Yes,” I whispered, only just now lifting my gaze towards his green eyes.

“Well, where is she?” he asked hurriedly with a flickering glance towards his door, as if she would walk in at any second.

“She was fragile.” My eyes began to tear up, my vision blurring. Here it came. “She was malnourished and had lost loads of weight and and couldn’t stay awake and hardly looked like mum at all,” I rushed without taking any breaths. “That was last- last night.” I took a deep breath. “She d-died this morning.”

Her pale skin. Her blue lips. Her cold touch. Her lolling head...

“What?” he breathed, his face losing so much color that the image of my mother’s face appeared for the thousandth time.

“M-mum died this morning.” Upon saying these words out loud, it was like a dam broke. Tears began to flood my face and my chest began to constrict, as if an invisible hand was squeezing me. My hands began to tremble and I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood.

His face went through several stages. Surprise, horror, anger, sadness, then it went completely blank, as if he wasn’t feeling anything. “She can’t be dead,” he deadpanned.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Gray,” I heaved. “I tried to save her. I r-really did. I made the house elves make her food and tea and I brew- I brewed a potion and everything, but sh-she was gone before I finished,” I managed to force out through my violent gasps for air.

“I… I need a minute,” he replied quietly, standing up and shuffling down the short hallway to his bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, not even caring if my voice didn’t carry to his ears. “I’m so sorry.”

The door to his bedroom shut swiftly and my breath got caught in my throat. I pulled my legs up and hugged my knees to my chest, weeping intensely into the space between my legs.

My mother was gone, her death was my fault, and my brother hates me for it. I had tried to save her. I truly had. She was even looking better towards the end! But she had died… 

She had died…

Her purple fingers...

“I’m sorry,” I announced again, to no one in particular now, my voice echoing slightly in the large, empty room.

My mother. 

My sweet, sweet mum. 

I was never going to see her ever again.

My heart was broken.

It was a few solid minutes before Grayson came back into the room. His eyes were watery and rimmed with red, telling me that he had been crying. He took a seat and looked everywhere except for me.

“Where’s she at?” he whispered.

“She’s still at Malfoy Manor,” I replied, still crying rather messily.

“Wha… what are we supposed to do?” he asked, looking up at me. I saw for the first time how this whole ordeal was affecting him. Joining the Death Eaters to protect mum and me, essentially failing in the end and mum dying, had broken him. His green eyes were as shattered as a glass that had met the floor. “Are we supposed to have a funeral?”

“There’s no one to come,” I whispered. “W-we were all she had…”

“We can’t just leave her at Malfoy Manor.”

“I w-wasn’t planning on it,” I suggested, trying to stop my tears and gasps. “We could bury her in Ken- Kensal Green. Isn’t that where grandma and granddad are buried?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking down at his folded hands in his lap. “I guess we could do that.”

I paused for a moment, allowing a beat of silence - save for my slowing sobs. “I can’t believe we have to do this.”

“Me neither.”


	2. Chapter 2

Grayson’s POV:

Life had never been particularly easy for me. When I was a toddler, my father left us without so much as a goodbye. Mum, Liz, and I had lived on a one person salary, and it wasn’t a very large salary. Mum had worked as a waitress at a posh restaurant that payed a fair wage, but wasn’t enough for a family of three. 

Throughout my years at Hogwarts, I had studied my arse off, trying to get the best marks I could so that I could get a good job to make a generous wage and help my mum with money, but when I had graduated, the only job that had accepted me was a desk job at Gringotts weighing knuts. I had gotten E’s all around on my N.E.W.T.’s except for Herbology, in which I had achieved an O.

But life had gotten significantly rougher a few years after I had graduated Hogwarts. The turning point had been when I had seen a known Death Eater eyeing my mum in the Leaky Cauldron at dinner one day, so, right then and there, I had vowed that I would do whatever was needed to protect her and Liz. 

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? So I got the Dark Mark burned into the skin of my left forearm and regularly attended Death Eater meetings.

But when Lizzie had told me she had been forced to join the Death Eaters by our father and was to murder Albus Dumbledore, my heart broke. I had failed to protect her. Her soul was going to be darkened even more than mine was.

The final straw was when Lizzie told me that our mum had died. I had joined the Death Eaters to protect my family, and I had failed all of them. My baby sister was a murderer, and my mum was dead. 

My mum was dead. The mum who had tried her best to raise me on her own. The mum who had made me and Lizzie her entire life. The mum who never let us know just how rough our life was. 

Her cinnamon coloured hair was going to decay into nothing but dust. Her warm skin was going to become cold as ice. Her eyes would grey and never see the light of day again. In a few years, she would be nothing but a pile of bones.

She would never again make me my favorite meat pie. She would never again envelope me in one of her hugs. She would never again sit beside me during Samuels Scintillating Saturdays. 

My world had shattered with her death, but I couldn’t let it show. I still had to play the part of a Death Eater and protect my sister from the same fate. She was not going to die. She would live through the approaching war even if it meant I had to give my own life to ensure it.

Elizabeth Alexandra May Samuels would live to an old age and have kids, probably with that Malfoy boy. She was going to graduate Hogwarts and grow up and get married and live happily ever after. I was going to make sure of it.

Her relationship with Draco Malfoy was not a secret. Many people knew. They were constantly together and basically lived for the other. It was obvious. The way they looked at each other made it so. Anyone could see that they loved each other deeply.

I had known from the start that Malfoy was a bad guy. I mean, he was the son of Lucius Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake. I knew that he would drag Lizzie into something dreadful, but in the end, he hadn’t. I had been our father to force her hand.

The man who had contributed in the creation of me and Lizzie, Corbin Yaxley, was not a pleasant guy. He had fought alongside with Voldemort in the First Wizarding War. He proved his cruelness when he handed Lizzie over to Voldemort. 

I had sat through countless Death Eater meetings where I had to suppress the urge to murder him on the spot.

Before Lizzie had informed me that he was our father, I had attended many meetings with him. I had watched him give reports of the last kidnapped witch or wizard. I had heard his accounts of the muggles he had killed. I had watched his greasy head nod and his cracked lips stretch over his yellowed teeth in a crooked smile as he received his next orders. It made me sick to my stomach.

Over the few months I had seen him, I had noticed several similarities between him and me and Liz. Lizzie had his blue-grey eyes. I had his nose and hair. 

He never approached me or made any acknowledgment that he knew I was his son, and I hated him even more for it. He had told Lizzie, but not me. Did he even remember me? The small, giggling son he left behind all those years ago? 

What had my mum seen in him? His eyebrows were always furrowed as if he were always angry, his teeth were yellow and crooked. He wasn’t handsome, and he was callous as hell. 

I resented him for all that he was worth.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco’s POV:

The death of Lizzie’s mother broke her heart. She had been broken before, but this had pushed her over the edge. She retreated into herself and hardly talked to me for about a week. At first I had tried to draw her from her daze with walks through the rose garden and fancy dinners, but once I realized that it was a lost cause, I comforted her with gentle hugs and soft kisses.

“Lizzie, we need to get going if we want to make it on time,” I uttered, shaking her shoulder slightly. We were lying in my bed together where she was pretending to be asleep.

“Okay,” she whispered in reply, sitting up and dragging herself over to the wardrobe where she kept some of her clothes. I walked up next to her and removed my own clothes from the wardrobe. She slipped her pyjamas off and slid into a knee-length, sleeved, black dress before stepping into a pair of black ballet flats.

I dressed as she dressed, putting on a smart, black suit. “You ready, love?” 

“No,” she sighed, a tear falling down her cheek. She reached up and quickly wiped it away before saying, “But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” I nodded as she slipped her arm through mine, and I turned on my heel, apparating us to the Kensal Green Cemetery. 

The blue sky was cheery and silent, with not a single puff of cloud in sight. The sun was shining down happily as if it didn’t know what had happened. This was not the weather for a burial. It should be gloomy and cold. The sky should be grey and full of clouds that would drizzle rain on us the whole time, but, no, it was sunny.

“Grayson ought to be over there,” she muttered, nodding her head towards the right, and we began to make our way towards the small plot of land that Grayson had purchased for Ella Samuels.

Rows of tombstones stood erect in silence to the left and right, in front and behind, like a sea of the dead. Some were crumbled with the weathering of centuries, some were smooth marble with new black writing and laid with floral tributes. Most though, were overgrown and unkempt, for now even their mourners had joined them under the soil. Statues of weeping and praying angels overlooked the intricately carved grave markers, which were covered in green lichen and moss.

The smell of old stone filled the moist air, weeds covering the graves of the dead, loved ones long since stopped visiting. Gravel paths weave through the maze of graves, allowing passers by to pay their respects to the people lined up in the earth’s embrace.

How could a place be so full and empty at the same time? All around are the tombstones with their faded etching, a roll-call for the people who cannot answer. For when their bodies became still and cold, they became a cadaver, not a person. 

Grayson stood a ways in front of us, beside a rectangular hole dug into the ground. He too was wearing a suit, wrapped in a wool jacket despite the uncomfortable warmth radiating from the sun.

We approached him without words and stood silently beside him, staring down at the shiny, black casket that rested at the bottom of the hole. A large pile of dirt was settled beside us, ready to hide Lizzie’s mum below the ground, forever concealing Ella Samuels from the world.

“Should we say a few words first? Or do we just...” Grayson asked, not taking his eyes from the grave. Lizzie nodded silently, grasping my arm tighter. I turned and gave her a reassuring kiss on the temple, trying to ignore the shattered look in her eyes. 

“Mum, growing up with you was quite possibly the greatest blessing I could have ever received. You cared for me in a way that no one else ever did. When I fell down, you were the one to bandage me. When I was frightened of the storms, you were the one who held me. When father-” He choked on his words and coughed to try and hide it. Lizzie reached over towards him and grabbed his hand with a comforting squeeze. “When father left us, you were the one who carefully explained to me that he wasn’t going to return.

“We didn’t always get along. There were times when I yelled and you tried not to yell back, or when I yelled at Liz and she yelled at me and you just yelled at us all.... Now that all seems so silly. What I wouldn’t give for just one more moment with you… even if we were shouting… but no matter how much time I spent with you or how much I appreciated you, it will never seem like it was enough.

“You will always be with me, mum. There will always be a part of you in my heart, and when I need you the most, I will call upon this part of my heart, and I will feel all of those amazing emotions you allowed me to experience. I love you, mum.” Grayson took a shaky breath and turned his head away from us as if he were wiping tears on his shoulder. 

I turned my head and glanced to Liz. There were a few tears tracing their ways down her cheeks, but other than that and the broken look in her eyes, she seemed very put together, considering the circumstance. Her features were blank and her jaw was clenched.

“I’m not sure I can say much more in addition to Gray,” she stated quietly, her eyes flickering towards her brother, “but I’m going to try.

“I haven’t lived a very significant life. I’ve gotten average marks, I’ve got an average personality, and average talent, but the one thing in my life that wasn’t average was you, mum. You were quite possibly the best mum anyone could have. 

“We didn’t grow up with much money, but you always managed to make of the best of it, and you were always smiling. Always. And many times I despised you for it, because when I wanted to be cross with you, you were smiling, and it was so hard to be cross with you when you were smiling because you were so beautiful. And I can’t believe that I’ll never see that smile again.” Her voice cracked and I gave her hand a soft squeeze. “The saddest moment is when the person who gave you the best memories, becomes a memory.

“I wish you were here, mum, just so I could tell you how much I need you and how hard every day has been without you. I wish you were here to tell me that everything will be okay. I wish I could tell you I love you one more time. You ought to be here.

“I hear that sometimes you never know the value of something until it’s gone, and I couldn’t agree any more. While you were alive, I didn’t appreciate you enough, and the trouble is that you think you have time and sometimes you don’t. You were there constantly, and I never even thought about what life would be like without you, but now that you’re gone, I can’t help but notice just how much I took for granted. There’s nothing heavier than your absence, mum, and I feel like I’m going to collapse from it.

“I think… I think the hardest part of losing someone, isn’t having to say goodbye, but rather learning to live without them. Always trying to fill the void, the emptiness that’s left inside your heart when they go. When you left me, a part of my heart was ripped from my chest, and I will never regain it. I feel empty. I feel like something is missing, and that something is you, mum. But I think, maybe, there is some validity in accepting that a part of me went with you when you died, and a part of you stayed with me.

“You used to tell me that I would live to see the world end and to see it reborn. The day you died was the day it ended, and I can’t imagine it ever starting up again because you’re gone. You’re gone.” She choked on the last word and began to sob uncontrollably, turning into my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her and let her cry as I rubbed her shoulders.

“Miss Samuels,” I announced quietly, drawing Grayson’s eyes. He hadn’t expected me to say anything, and I guess I didn’t either. “I only met you a few times, but each time, you were nothing but kind to me. You accepted me, and I don’t think there is anything better than that.” Lizzie’s crying didn’t soften as she lifted her head to look at me. I stared right into her beautiful grey eyes. The scar on her cheek from the day her mum was kidnapped glinted white in the sunlight. “I promise that, in your absence, I will watch over Lizzie. I will keep her safe no matter the cost. I will see your daughter through her life and be sure she lives long and well,” I whispered, saying the promise more to Lizzie than to Ella. Bringing a hand up to Liz’s blotchy face, I wiped some of her tears away.

Grayson drew his wand and pointed it to the pile of dirt, levitating a large portion of it over top of the grave and letting it drop with a soft thud. Lizzie drew her wand and levitated another portion, leaving some for me. She dropped it over the casket with the same thud that Grayson had caused. I pointed my wand to the dirt and levitated the last bit into the grave. It settled with a thud of finality.


	4. Chapter 4

Lizzie’s POV:

I was in Draco’s bed, staring blankly at the wall.

I was thinking about my mum.

I was remembering our years together.

I was seeing us laughing in my mind.

I was trying not to cry.

June 29th, 1993

Mum threw her head back and laughed loudly as I tripped in the kitchen and spilled the pancake batter all over myself, soiling my favorite pair of pyjamas. It was Grayson’s birthday, and mum and I were making pancakes for breakfast, but as they were now down the front of me and we were out of flour, we ended up having a few donuts from the cafe down the street.

August 2nd, 1986

Mum narrowed her eyes at me and pursed her lips. She just didn’t understand classical music. I had tried explaining the difference between Beethoven’s first and second symphonies. Even at seven I could explain it. In the end, I threw my hands into the air and gave up.

October 18th, 1985

Mum smirked at me with twinkling eyes. It was our first year without Grayson, and we were enjoying our newfound quiet home. She was beating me at my favorite board game and utterly relishing it, seeing as I always beat her.

December 10th, 1984

Mum frowned at me and Grayson, having caught us shouting at each other over a book. Grayson accused me of stealing it from his bedroom, which, of course, I had. She threatened us with Father Christmas, saying that he wouldn’t bring us our gift if we were bad. That shut us both right up.

May 19th, 1991

Mum’s eyes were alight with joy as she stood by the window in the kitchen, a yellow envelope in her hand and an owl perched on the windowsill. The second my eyes landed on the envelope she was holding, I knew what it was, because I had seen her holding one very similar six years ago with Grayson’s name written across it in curvy letters, but this one was mine. It said my name. Suddenly, I wasn’t a muggle anymore, and I was a witch.

December 31st, 1993

Mum grinned at Grayson as he counted down to the new year, eyes trained on his watch with excitement.

February 14th, 1989

Mum smiled sweetly as she handed me a piece of chocolate from the box Gray had sent us from Honeydukes.

September 1st, 1991

Mum wiped the tear from her face as she hugged me on Platform 9 ¾.

“Liz?” Draco’s husky voice ripped me from my memories with an icy grasp. “Hey, are you okay?” He was squatted in front of me, blocking the view of the wall, and was looking at me with worried eyes.

I tried to tell him that I was fine, but my voice abandoned me and all that came out was a pathetic sob. I noticed, suddenly, that my face was wet with tears and felt deplorable. The anguish of my mother’s death had crept its way into my mind once again and left me fragmented.

“Shhh,” he whispered, climbing into bed beside me and wrapping his arms around me. “It’s okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

I let him fold me into his embrace and blubbered as I thought about all my mum had done for me. “I miss her, Draco,” I muttered through my tears. Draco rubbed his thumb in soothing circles on my shoulder, which kept me grounded and stopped me from completely breaking down.

“I know, love,” he replied, kissing the back of my neck. “I know.”


	5. Chapter 5

Lizzie’s POV:

“I don’t want to go, Draco,” I whispered, hugging myself tightly. We were about to attend our second Death Eater meeting, and I was beyond terrified as we waited in his bedroom for the proper time to go downstairs.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right there next to you the whole time. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he replied, placing a hand on my knee.

“What if he gives us another task like the last? Or he kills someone? I’ve seen enough death, Draco.” My attempts at trying to keep my mind from my mum failed, and I was reminded of her death.

“We’ll get through this. Votre chagrin est mon chagrin. Remember?”

“Right,” I muttered, squeezing myself.

He stood from his seat and straightened his tie. “We should probably go in, now.” 

“Okay,” I murmured, standing up as well. Draco led me down the stairs and into the sitting room, where Narcissa was standing with Lucius.

“What the- Father?” Draco stopped in his steps and froze in shock. His pale eyebrows were arched so high they almost touched the chandelier above us. “What are you doing here? I thought- I thought you were in Azkaban?” he gaped.

“The Dark Lord arranged for my escape after you completed your task. It was your reward,” the man stated, staring at his son with intense eyes, daring him to say something out of line.

“My reward…” Draco repeated, his eyebrows lowering and furrowing tightly above his eyes. 

“I was freed along with the other incarcerated Death Eaters.” As Lucius spoke, I noticed that his face had hollowed out considerably during his time in Azkaban, and there were purple bags below his eyes even larger than mine.

Draco watched his father for a few awkward seconds before saying, “Right.” He cleared his throat and pulled himself back together. “Perhaps we should enter the drawing room,” he spoke rather formally.

“Indeed,” Lucius nodded, still staring intently at his son.

I linked my arm through Draco’s as we walked through the door into the drawing room. The second we crossed over the threshold, I wanted to run away as fast as I could.

The lengthy table was surrounded by Death Eaters, a few spots left empty for those who had yet to arrive. I noticed my father sitting on the right hand side towards the far end and my brother sitting on the left hand side, closer to the door. I relaxed slightly at the sight of him, knowing that Draco and I weren’t entirely alone in this. 

I led Draco towards Grayson and took a seat beside the sandy-haired man, Draco taking the seat on my other side. As I sat, I froze, noticing a woman floating near the far wall. Her long hair was floating around her head like liquid sand, and her head lolled backwards dangerously. I felt my stomach drop into my feet, knowing what her probable fate would be.

“Hey, Squirt,” Grayson whispered darkly but kindly, staring straight ahead with a blank face. I found his use of my childhood nickname ironic and inappropriate considering the circumstance. 

“Hey,” I breathed, not drawing my eyes away from the woman.

“Hello, Draco,” Grayson greeted civilly, still staring ahead as if in a daze.

“Hello, Grayson,” Draco replied with a nod in the same civil tone.

That was where our conversation ended, none of us wanting to speak any further. The other Death Eaters murmured quietly among each other, waiting for the arrival of Voldemort, but Draco, Grayson, and I sat silently, observing the room with a horrified, stoney expression. My eyes regularly flicked towards the woman who floated in the corner. She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Looking at her made me think of Divination and Astronomy class at Hogwarts, for some reason, but I knew she didn’t teach either of those classes.

When Voldemort did finally arrive, the room fell silent and all eyes followed him as he took a seat at the head of the table where a chair was left empty specifically for him. 

“Welcome,” the man drawled breathily, his eyes moving around the table, lingering on the one empty chair to his left. “Welcome. All of you. I welcome you to the beginning of a new world. For term will soon begin at Hogwarts, and we will work harder than ever to finalize this new world. Once we-”

His sentence was cut off as everyone’s eyes were drawn from the red-eyed snake to the door where Severus Snape walked in, his robes dramatically billowing behind him. Voldemort observed him with an expression of faint amusement.

“Severus,” Voldemort hissed with an air of enjoyment, “I was beginning to worry you lost your way. Come. We’ve saved you a seat.” Snape’s shoes quietly thudded on the floor as he made his way to the chair on Voldemort’s left. “You bring news I trust?” 

News? I thought. Of what?

“It will happen Saturday next at nightfall,” Snape replied, his face blank and eyes somewhat soft as if he were trying to convey something.

“I’ve heard differently, my Lord,” a gravelly voice inputted. All heads turned in the direction of the voice, where Corbin Yaxley sat with his elbows resting on the table and his hands folded. I cringed. “Dawlish, the auror, has let slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the thirtieth of this month. The day before he turns 17.”

Potter boy?! Harry Potter?! Please don’t hurt Harry. Please. He’s our only hope.

“This is a false trail,” Snape phrased firmly, looking down his hooked nose at my father. “The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the Ministry.”

What are they talking about? What are they going to do?

“Well,” a man snorted a ways down the table, “they got that right, didn’t they?” My head snapped in his direction.

They’ve infiltrated the Ministry?!

The table erupted in laughter at the man’s statement. The man who made the comment elbowed the woman beside him. She sneered at him as if she would like nothing more than to curse him.

“What say you, Pius?” Voldemort asked the man directly across from him, who looked down and to his right out of the corner of his eye, as if something were there. I faintly hear the slithering of Nagini, Voldemort’s snake.

“One hears many things, my Lord,” the man replied carefully. “Whether the truth is among them is not clear.”

Voldemort chuckled, which made me sick to my stomach. “Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful, Pius.” Pius smiled faintly. “Where will he be taken, the boy?” Voldemort asked Snape.

“To a safe house,” Snape replied vaguely. “Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it’s been given every manner of protection possible. Once there it will be impractical to attack him.” 

A woman on Voldemort’s right cleared her throat to interrupt. “My Lord, I’d like to volunteer myself for this task.” It was Bellatrix Lestrange who had spoken, one of the Death Eaters who had been present the night on the Astronomy Tower. Her long, curly, black hair was pulled half up, but she had left the rest down. She leaned forward and whispered, “I want to kill the boy.”

She was, however, interrupted from hissing anything more by a scream from somewhere else in the building. A terrible yell of pain that caused icy fingers to wrap around my heart and squeeze. 

“WORMTAIL!” Voldemort roared in the direction of a man who was standing in the corner. I jumped at his outburst and Draco, who noticed, slid his slender fingers into mine. “Have I not spoken to you about keeping out guest quiet?”

“Yes, m-my Lord. Right away, my Lord,” the man squeaked, cowering from Voldemort's furious red eyes. His footsteps echoed ominously around the room as he ran towards the source of the scream.

“As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix,” Voldemort articulated once recovered from the eruption, “I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.” The woman leaned back in her chair, embarrassed and upset.

“But,” Voldemort continued, standing from his chair, “I face an unfortunate complication. That my wand and Potter’s share the same core.” He held his wand up in the darkness, which appeared to be made of bone. “They are, in some ways, twins.” He walked around his chair and looked down the table. “We can wound but not fatally harm one another.” He placed his wand on the table with an evil looking sneer. “If I am to kill him,” he said as he tiptoed down one side of the table, “I must do it with another’s wand.” Each one of his footsteps resounded in my heart with a horrendous reverberation.

It just so happened that the side he chose to walk down, was the side I was sitting on, so that the snake was walking behind me. I heard him place a hand on Draco’s chair and began to tremble, my hand squeezing Draco’s rather tightly.

“Come,” he said in a harsh whisper, removing his hand and continuing on his way down the table. However, now he was directly behind me. I could hear his muffled footsteps on the floor and could hear his breathing. “Surely one of you would like the honor? Hmm?” He was farther down the table now, an adequate distance away from me that I could release the breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding. “What about you, Lucius?” He made his way back down the table towards Lucius, who was sitting on the other side of Draco. 

Voldemort was staring down at Lucius Malfoy. “My Lord?” the man croaked, realizing that he was being addressed.

“My Lord?”” Voldemort repeated, mockingly. “I require your wand.” He held a hand in front of Lucius, waiting for the wand. Lucius took a deep breath and pulled his wand from its sheath in his walking stick, handing it to Voldemort with visibly shaking hands.

“Do I detect elm?” Voldemort held the wand up, holding it as if it were made of glass.

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius whispered in reply, watching the man from the corner of his eye.

Voldemort held the wand in his right hand and ran his left down the shaft. He gripped it firmly, and snapped it from the base, a silver snake head. Lucius flinched.

“And the core?” Voldemort prompted with a hiss.

“Dragon-” Lucius cleared his throat, “Dragon heartstring, my Lord.”

“Dragon heartstring,” Voldemort repeated. Lucius nodded quickly.

Everyone watched the exchange with curious and semi-nervous eyes. 

Voldemort threw the snake head on the table in front of Lucius, causing another flinch on the man’s part. Voldemort then pointed the wand at the floating woman that I had almost forgotten about and moved her over the table. She was trembling as he began to slowly walk back to his own seat, her eyes darting around to those sitting at the table. “To those of you who do not know, we are joined tonight by Miss Charity Burbage, who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

That’s how I knew her. She was a professor at Hogwarts.

“Her speciality was Muggle Studies.” He spoke the words ‘Muggle Studies’ with such venom and contempt that I wouldn’t have been surprised if several people in the room just dropped dead from it. The people at the table around me chuckled. “It is Miss Burbage’s belief that muggles are not so different from us. She would, given her way, have us mate with them.” Bellatrix made a gagging noise, drawing more laughs. “To her, the mixture of magical and muggle blood is not an abomination.” He took a seat. “But something to be encouraged.”

“Severus,” Professor Burbage whispered in terror, her eyes wide with pleading. “Severus, please. We’re friends!” Snape only stared back at the woman as she begged for her life.

Voldemort lifted his newly acquired wand and pointed it to the woman, casting a curse that made her drop onto the table in front of me, dead. I squeaked, and Draco’s hand tightened around mine; I saw him swallow as if suppressing a shriek.

I was struggling to suppress tears, for I had just witnessed yet another death, and her dead body was lying in front of me. Her ratty blonde hair was lying around her head, almost like a halo, and her bruised and bloody face was blank. Her blue eyes were still open and staring at the ceiling above us. I saw a single tear travel from the corner of her eye and land on the surface of the table like a sparkling shard of glass.

“Nagini,” Voldemort whispered, petting his snake, which was now slithering up onto the table, “Dinner.” I gasped as the snake made its way down the table, towards Professor Burbage. The people she passed pulled their hands clear of the table and watched her slither by with apprehension.

Just as the snake unhinged its jaw and made to attack the woman, I closed my eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco’s POV: 

On Saturday in late July, Father left the house in a hurry. I knew where he was off to. That was the day that Harry Potter was to be moved. He was off to try and apprehend Potter for Voldemort. Many of the Death Eaters were. 

I spent the day trying to distract Lizzie. I didn’t want her thinking about the fact that Harry Potter was most likely going to die that day, so I gave her an official tour of Malfoy Manor, showing her everything from the card room to the winter garden room to the conservatory. I was sure to skirt far around the dungeons, where I knew there were prisoners being held for Voldemort.

Of everything on our property, she liked the rose garden the best.

“This is beautiful,” she breathed, looking around us as we walked under the arches that grew the rouge colored, climbing roses.

“Mother loves her gardens. She makes sure they are always in the best shape,” I replied, nodding in agreement. “She casts special preserving spells to make sure the plants last far into the autumn and bloom in all of the brightest colors. It’s quite spectacular.”

We were walking down the center path of the garden that was like a rose tunnel. An arch stretched above us that grew so thick with roses that the sky was barely visible. The stone pathway below our feet was made of bluestone, a light grey rock the absorbed the sound of our footsteps. Our hands were intertwined as we walked.

“Is that a fountain I hear?” Lizzie asked, cocking her head to the side to listen with a slight frown.

“It is, indeed,” I affirmed, leading her through a doorway to our left, where the path split off towards the fountain. “It’s designed to look like the rose garden at Hever Castle in Kent.”

Lizzie gawked at the small clearing we had walked into. A small square was cut into the ground in the center where a pool was and in the center of the pool was a five foot tall, tiered, intricately carved fountain, spilling water into the pool. At the base, several stone serpents were supporting the first tier. It was an old fountain, so it was chipped in some places and was tinged with green moss, but this all made the area even more becoming.

Around the path that wrapped around the fountain were the pale pink rose bushes, the green of the leaves matching the green on the fountain. They grew in thick patches and spilled petals onto the stone. Surrounding the entire clearing were deep green hedges with a few archways leading off to different areas of the garden.

“Merlin’s pants,” Lizzie whispered in awe. I almost chuckled in amusement. 

“Have you ever been to Hever Castle?” I asked, leading us to a black bench close to the hedge wall. We sat down side by side, still holding hands.

“I haven’t,” she replied, watching the fountain. “Mum never-” She cut herself off and looked down to her feet, still not ready to talk about her mother.

“It was the childhood home of Anne Boleyn-” I began only to be cut off.

“I know,” she remarked quietly, trying to draw her mind away from the subject of her mother. “Like ‘divorced, beheaded, died. Divorced, beheaded, survived’ Anne Boleyn.”

“That’s the one,” I spoke with a nod. 

“She haunts the Tower of London. I went on a trip there with Gray and- and-” Once again, her mind travelled back towards her mum and made her stammer.

“She does?” I asked, steering the conversation from Ella and back towards Anne. 

“She was the second wife of King Henry VIII and the first to be beheaded,” she muttered, staring blankly at the fountain in front of us. “She was the only person out of the seven executed in the Tower to be killed with a sword. She haunts the St. Peter ad Vincula chapel and walks around with her head under her arm.”

“How do you know all of that?” I asked, looking to her with curiosity. 

“I enjoy history stories like that, I guess.”

“What do you mean ‘stories like that’?”

She shook her head as if physically trying to rid her mind of something before saying, “The morbid mysteries about death and ghosts. Stuff like that.” 

“Tell me a one of your favorites.”

“Have you heard of the Princes in the Tower?” she asked, running her finger along a hem of her muggle jeans.

“Yes,” I replied with a nod. 

“Well, that’s probably my favorite,” she said. “Give me a second to think of another.”

“Take your time,” I said.

After a few moments of thinking, she began, “Alright, there’s this story of the Earl Beardie, or Alexander Lindsay, the fourth earl of Crawford, who lived in Glamis Castle, which is said to be the most haunted castle in England. He was a cruel and evil man. It’s said that he once had a black house-servant run around naked for his entertainment and then he and his buddies hunted him down with their hunting dogs. His screams rang out over the land as he was stabbed with spears and literally torn apart by the dogs, defenceless and stricken by mortal fear. The ghost of this manservant is said to be that of ‘Jack the Runner’, a spirit who runs through the halls of Glamis Castle at night screaming in pain and terror.”

“That’s ghastly,” I interjected, my brows drawn together.

She nodded before continuing. “Anyway, Earl Beardie was playing cards late one Saturday night and one of his servants warned him that it was getting close to midnight and that gambling on the Sabbath was sacrilege. The Earl laughed and said he would play until Doomsday.

“At the stroke of midnight, a knock was heard on the door of the room and a tall, dark stranger came in and asked to join the game. The Earl agreed and a new game was started. Hours later, shouting and arguing was heard, and when the servant opened the door, the Earl was engulfed in flames. The mysterious man was said to be the Devil, and, having won the Earl’s soul in the card game, condemned him to play cards until Doomsday for daring to have gambled on the Sabbath.

“Sounds such as shouting, stomping feet, banging doors and swearing are all reported to come from the West Tower of the castle, the alleged site of the card game. There have also been reports of residents and guests sighting a bearded man wandering the castle, again, believed to be the spirit of Earl Beardie, and others have even described being touched by the spirit itself.”

“Wow,” I uttered under my breath.

“Yeah,” she added. “I don’t like that story as much as I like the story of the Princes in the Tower or the legend of Queen Anne Boleyn, but I like the part about the Devil showing up.” She shrugged and gazed back at me with dull eyes.

“I like the part about Jack the Runner,” I informed her, looking right back at her.

“Yeah.” She turned her head away from me, and I could sense the abrupt change in her emotion. Without even asking, I knew what she was thinking.

“Thinking about your mum?” I asked anyway, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her into my chest.

“She used to love when I told her stories like that,” she whispered, leaning on me. “She didn’t like history like I do, but she found those legends interesting.”

“I’m sorry, love,” I expressed in a hushed voice, kissing the top of her head. “What do you need from me?”

“I just need you to hold me,” she pleads with a great, shaky sigh.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

We sat there for what could have been seconds or hours, with my arms wrapped around her as she thought about her mum and managed to keep her tears from falling.

I wished there was more that I could do for her.


	7. Chapter 7

Lizzie’s POV:

Harry,  
Happy birthday. I hope you are well. Write me back?

Lizzie

I wanted to write more. I wanted to tell Harry how sorry I was for saying that he was dead to me (sure I was angry that he had almost killed Draco, but he was still my friend, right?). I wanted to tell him about my mum. I wanted to tell him all of the secrets that I had learned from being a Death Eater. I wanted ask him if he was okay. I wanted to tell him that I hoped he would win the war for us all. I wanted to tell him how happy I was that he had survived the attack last night. I wanted to talk to him. But I had to start small.

I stood from Draco’s desk and tied the small piece of parchment around Draco’s eagle owl’s foot before opening the window and whispering, “Harry Potter at the Burrow.” The owl spread its spotted wings and soared off into the night sky.

Despite the warm air that was blowing into the room, I shivered. I knew Draco wouldn’t approve of me writing to Harry, so I had written the letter before he had awakened. I also didn’t want him to know that I knew where Harry was. I didn’t want anyone to know.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Harry was at the Burrow with the Weasleys. It was his birthday, and he would want to be with his family. The Weasley’s were the closest thing to family that he had.

My eyes scanned the stars in the sky above me, searching for the ever familiar constellations. I found Scorpius the scorpion, Orion the Hunter with the star Bellatrix as his armpit (fitting), Draco the dragon (which made me smile), and Andromeda the woman of Greek myth.

I shivered again and shut the window with a dull click before climbing back into bed with Draco.

\-----

Harry’s POV:

“Oi, wake up.” The sound of Ron’s voice pulled me from my dreams. I was on a bed in Ron’s bedroom at the Burrow, and the sun hadn’t risen yet, so the room was still shadowy. The scar on my forehead was prickling as if needles were repeatedly poking me. “You were muttering in your sleep.”

 

“Was I?” I asked groggily, sitting up and trying to rub the sleepiness from my eyes.

“Yeah. ‘Gregorovitch.’ You kept saying ‘Gregorovitch’,” he replied. I wasn’t wearing my glasses, so his face was fairly blurry. I couldn’t figure out if he had been awake for a while or if I had woken him with my sleep talking.

“Who’s Gregorovitch?”

“I dunno, do I? You were the one saying it.” I rubbed my scar, trying to stop the prickling and trying to recall my dream.

“I think Voldemort’s looking for him,” I guessed. That’s what most of my dreams had been about recently: the people Voldemort was trying to track down.

“Poor bloke,” Ron yawned. “Anyway, happy birthday.”

“That’s right! I’m seventeen!” I had forgotten that today was my birthday. I grasped my wand and summoned my glasses from the desk where I had left them last night. It would have been much more satisfying had they not zoomed towards me and poked me in the eye.

“Slick,” Ron snorted.

I revelled in the fact that I could do magic legally now. I made objects fly across Ron’s room just for the fun of it and tried to dress myself with magic, only managing to tangle the laces on my trainers hopelessly.

“Here’s your present,” Ron spoke, tossing me a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper. “Unwrap it up here, it’s not for my mother’s eyes.”

“A book?” I asked unexcitedly, accepting the parcel. Ron hated books almost as much as I did, and, besides, it was Hermione’s job to get us books.

“This isn’t your average book,” Ron grinned. “It’s pure gold: Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Explains everything you need to know about girls. If only I’d had this last year I’d have known exactly how to get rid of Lavender, and I would’ve known how to get going with… Well, Fred and George gave me a copy, and I’ve learned a lot. You’d be surprised, it’s not all about wand-work either.”

“No?” I asked, flipping the book over to look at the back cover.

“Like I said: pure gold,” he winked before his eyes were drawn to his small window. “Hey, isn’t that Malfoy’s owl?” I lifted my eyes from the book to see Ron pointing towards the window where a large eagle owl was perched, pecking at the glass to gain our attention.

“Sure looks like it,” I replied, walking towards the window and opening it. The owl flew into the room and perched on the endboard of Ron’s bed. “Why would Malfoy be writing you?”

Ron approached the owl apprehensively and untied the parchment from it’s leg. “Actually,” he said, “it’s addressed to you.” He held the roll out for me.

I blinked and took the parchment from him.

Harry,

Happy birthday. I hope you are well. Write me back?

Lizzie

“It’s from Lizzie,” I reported, confused. The last time we had spoken, she had told me I was dead to her.

“Lizzie Samuels?” 

“No, Lizzie Potter, my long lost sister. Of course Lizzie Samuels, you arse,” I replied sarcastically, with a roll of my eyes.

“What’s she want?” he asked, tilting his head to one side.

“Read it for yourself.” I held the parchment out to Ron, and he took it, reading the message quickly.

“I thought she hated you for what you did to Malfoy?”

“I thought so too.” I frowned. “Do I write her back?”

“I dunno, mate,” he shrugged, handing the letter back. “She’s your friend.”

“Thanks,” I deadpanned. Collecting a spare piece of parchment and a quill, I leaned over the desk in the corner and began to write.

Lizzie,

Thanks for the birthday wishes.

I’m doing rather well at the moment, I hope you are too.

If you don’t mind me asking: why did you write me? I thought you were cross with me after I cursed Malfoy? If I recall correctly, you said I was ‘dead to you’.

Anyway, thanks again!

Harry

Malfoy’s owl hadn’t left yet, so I attached the parchment to it’s leg and sent it back to Lizzie. “That was an odd start to the day,” I wondered aloud.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed. “Now, about this Gregorovitch character: do you think Hermione would know who he is?”

“I suppose she might.” I shrugged.


	8. Chapter 8

Lizzie’s POV:

Following the Death Eater meeting, I ordered a few copies of the Daily Prophet. I wanted to keep up with what was going on outside of Malfoy Manor. I didn’t want to find out via Death Eater meetings what was happening.

The first paper I received was one headlined WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, accompanied by a large photo of Harry. 

They were blaming Harry for a crime that I had broughten about. He hadn’t murdered Dumbledore, Snape had, and that was only because Draco and I couldn’t actually cast the spell.

Inside of the paper, was a piece about the muggle born registry.

The Ministry of Magic is undertaking a survey of so-called "Muggle-borns" to better understand how they came to possess magical secrets.  
Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed from person to person when Wizards reproduce. Where no proven Wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggle-born is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force.  
The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission.  
This was Voldemort’s doing. Since he had infiltrated the Ministry, he was using his power to track down the muggleborns. 

I frowned with frustration and continued reading. 

EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT FROM UPCOMING BIOGRAPHY OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE   
BY RITA SKEETER  
Proud and haughty, Kendra Dumbledore could not bear to remain in Mould-on-the-Wold after her husband Percival's well-publicized arrest and imprisonment in Azkaban. She therefore decided to uproot the family and relocate to Godric's Hollow, the village that was later to gain fame as the scene of Harry Potter's strange escape from You-Know-Who.  
Like Mould-on-the-Wold, Godric's Hollow was home to a number of Wizarding families, but as Kendra knew none of them, she would be spared the curiosity about her husband's crime she had faced in her former village. By repeatedly rebuffing the friendly advances of her new Wizarding neighbours, she soon ensured that her family was left well alone.  
"Slammed the door in my face when I went around to welcome her with a batch of homemade Cauldron Cakes," says Bathilda Bagshot. "The first year they were there I only ever saw the two boys. Wouldn't have known there was a daughter if I hadn’t been picking Plangentines by moonlight the winter after they moved in, and saw Kendra leading Ariana out into the back garden. Walked her round the lawn once, keeping a firm grip on her, then took her back inside. Didn't know what to make of it."  
It seems that Kendra thought the move to Godric's Hollow was the perfect opportunity to hide Ariana once and for all, something she had probably been planning for years. The timing was significant. Ariana was barely seven years old when she vanished from sight, and seven is the age by which most experts agree that magic will have revealed itself, if present. Nobody now alive remembers Ariana ever demonstrating even the slightest sign of magical ability. It seems clear, therefore, that Kendra made a decision to hide her daughter's existence rather than suffer the shame of admitting that she had produced a Squib. Moving away from the friends and neighbours who knew Ariana would, of course, make imprisoning her all the easier. The tiny number of people who henceforth knew of Ariana's existence could be counted upon to keep the secret, including her two brothers, who had deflected awkward questions with the answer their mother had taught them: "My sister is too frail for school."  
Next week: Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts – the Prizes and the Pretence.

I frowned even deeper. Rita Skeeter had made Dumbledore’s family out to be awful. She had made Kendra Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore’s mother, a villain, and made it seem as if she had locked her daughter, Ariana, in a dungeon. Of course, I didn’t know the full story, only what I had just read and what the rumors were, but I knew Dumbledore, and if his family was anything like he was, this was full of lies.

I harrumphed in outrage and threw the paper onto the floor, crossing my arms in front of me. “What’s wrong, love?” Draco asked curiously, looking up from his book.

“The Daily Prophet,” I grumbled crossly. “That’s what’s wrong.”

“What about it?”

“Rita Skeeter is writing a biography about Dumbledore, and it’s full of hogwash,” I explained. “She’s doing a segment next week about his time at Hogwarts, and Merlin only knows what she’ll say about him then.”

“Rita Skeeter is a very… creative writer,” Draco phrased, thinking about his wording carefully. “She likes to take the truth and twist it around so she keeps her readers interested. So, if she’s writing Dumbledore’s biography, it’s not going to be very truthful.”

“He did live a very controversial life,” I sighed.

“He did, indeed,” Draco agreed with a nod and going back to reading his book.

A few minutes later, I spoke again. “Hey, Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“Who do you want to win the war?” I asked.

He lifted his head and peered at me with an odd expression. He screwed his face up and thought for a few seconds. “Well, I suppose I want the light side to win, because any world with You-Know-Who leading can’t be a good one.”

“But if they win, we’ll most likely be thrown into Azkaban,” I pointed out quietly.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Draco vocalized cautiously, eyes flickering to the doorway of his bedroom as if someone were there listening to our conversation.

“Snape’s going to be headmaster at Hogwarts, isn’t he?” I asked before he could return to his book.

“Since You-Know-Who is in the Ministry and that’s who appoints the headmasters, I suppose he will be.”

“Is that good or bad?” I frowned, trying to picture Hogwarts with Snape as our leader, but I couldn’t do it. All I knew was Dumbledore.

“It depends, I guess. He could use the power to make school hell, or he could just be present without doing anything too significant. Sit in the background, so to speak.”

“I hope it’s the latter,” I stated. “I can’t imagine Hogwarts becoming a hell.”

“Remember Umbridge?” 

“How could I forget?” I asked, running my fingers along the scars on the back of my right hand spelling out ‘I must not tell lies’.

“She made Hogwarts pretty hellish,” Draco confessed, his eyes flicking to my hands.

“True,” I agreed. “But if You-Know-Who takes over Hogwarts, you know he’ll probably start training us to become his soldiers. Teach us dark magic and all that. I really can’t see students like Ginny and Neville going along with that.”

“I’m sure they’ll fight back, and I guess we’ll just have to help them.”

“Fight back?” I asked, confused. “You do know what you’re saying, right, Draco?”

“I do.” He nodded, eyes once again looking to his door.

“You want to become a traitor to You-Know-Who and undermine his rule of Hogwarts? That would me death for sure if we were caught.”

“We’re already traitors, aren’t we?” he asked, gesturing to his left forearm, where his Dark Mark was. “Why not become a traitor of the traitors?”

\-----

Dear Mum,

I know that you’ll never read this, but that’s kind of the point.

I miss you. I really, really, really miss you. 

I wish there was some sort of spell that could bring you back.

I miss the way you made toast. How you put butter and sugar on it without asking. How you just knew that I loved it that way.

I miss the way that your hair curled at the base of your neck after you took showers or the weather got too humid.

I miss the way you chewed on your lips when you were thinking.

I miss the smell of your vanilla perfume.

I miss decorating the Christmas tree with you.

I miss the way you would frown at me when you found me hiding in some corner reading, and then smile like you were looking up at a sky full of stars.

I really miss you, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t quick enough. If I had just brewed that potion just a bit faster, you would have been fine. I’m sorry. I’m so very truly sorry.

I’ve lost someone that I can’t live without, and now I have to learn to live without you. My heart has been broken into microscopic pieces and the damage irreversible. I’m never going to get over your death. But I guess that’s the good news. You’ll live on forever in my broken heart that will never seal back up. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly, that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp. I haven’t learned to dance yet, but someday, maybe I’ll get there.

Oh, look at me now, I’m getting all sappy, and I’m crying all over the place. And it doesn’t even matter that this ink is getting all smudged because you’ll never read this.

Because you’re dead.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco’s POV:

September first came before we were ready. One day Lizzie and I were silently sitting in the rose garden, admiring the efflorescent blooms that spilled from the greenery, the next we were packing our trunks and making our way to hustle of Platform 9 ¾.

“Stay strong, Squirt,” Grayson said, wrapping his arms around Lizzie. “Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t stick out. Follow the rules, no matter what they are. I can’t lose you too.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Gray,” she replied, hugging him back, obviously trying to ignore the ‘too’.

He pulled back and looked to me with intense forest-green eyes; they were so very different from Lizzie’s steely-colored ones. “Promise me you’ll keep her safe,” he spoke with a dire voice and seemed to be begging me rather than asking me to keep Liz safe. I was shaken by the desperateness in his voice, but somehow found the ability to answer him.

“I promise,” I said in a hushed tone, just loud enough that he could hear me over the noise on the platform. “Nothing will happen to her.” And I knew this was the truth, because, no matter the personal cost, I was going to make sure Lizzie got home alright.

“Thank you,” he whispered before hugging Lizzie once more. “Write me as often as you can.”

“I will.” Lizzie pulled back with a start when the train whistle sounded. She looked over her shoulder to see all of the students giving their families one last hug before loading the train. “Guess it’s time to go.”

“I guess so,” I spoke, glancing around us. Teary parents pushed their way through the crowd so they could wave their children off. I wondered if this was the last time some of them would see each other.

“Be careful, Liz. You too, Malfoy.” His green eyes turned to me once more, and he spoke with a curt nod, different from the way he spoke to Lizzie.

“Call me Draco,” I articulated carefully and kindly, the way my mother had taught me to.

“Alright. Be careful, Draco.” He gave me the smallest of smiles.

“Bye, Gray.” Lizzie kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger for a moment, and slipped her fingers through mine.

“Bye,” he replied. 

Almost immediately as we stepped onto the train, I noticed how little students had returned to Hogwarts this year. A solid quarter of the school hadn’t returned, and it was obvious, even though attendance this year had been deemed mandatory by the Ministry for those who could prove their blood heritage.

“Where is everyone?” Lizzie asked beside me, noticing the difference in the population of the train.

“Parents are scared to let their students come back now that Dumbledore is-”

“Yeah,” she muttered, cutting me off and leading me back to the Slytherin compartment. “I am too.”

Despite the fact that a fourth of the school seemed to have disappeared, the Slytherin house seemed fuller than ever. They were all talking animatedly with those around them about Merlin knows what.

With encouragement from Pansy, we squeezed into a table with Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Astoria Greengrass, and, of course, Pansy.

Pansy, who had gotten a haircut which had made her already blunt bob even more blunt, spoke to us excitedly. “Hi, guys! How was your holiday?” Her lips were covered with a deep scarlet lipstick that stood out against her black dress.

“It was alright,” I replied politely. “How was yours?”

“It was amazing! Mother took me on a trip to France again! We went all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower and watched the sunset this time. It was absolutely gorgeous. I even put a lock on the Love Lock Bridge like the muggles like to do for me and Theo.” She smiled and leaned over to kiss Nott on the cheek, leaving a red smear. He blushed and reached up to wipe it off.

“I’m going to vomit,” Zabini gagged.

“Did you go to the Louvre?” Greengrass asked quietly. Her long, black hair was pulled half back, the rest cascading down her shoulders. 

“Oh, no,” Pansy scoffed. “There’s no way I would go there. It’s so boring.” I watched Zabini roll his eyes and Greengrass’ narrow ever so slightly.

“Pansy Parkinson, everyone,” Zabini drawled, also rolling his brown eyes. “She who has absolutely no taste.”

“I do to have taste!” She squealed, furrowing her dark eyebrows tightly together in outrage.

“You wouldn’t go to the Louvre, quite possibly the most famous art gallery in the world, because it might be boring.” He folded his arms and looked at her with an accusatory stare. “Not even to see the Mona Lisa.”

“The Mona Lisa is there?!” she exclaimed looking around at each of us in surprise to confirm the information. “Why didn’t someone tell me! I would’ve gone then!”

 

“Oh, come on,” Zabini groaned, once again rolling his eyes, “everyone knows the Mona Lisa is in the Louvre.”

“Really?” Pansy squeaked, cringing. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Nott smiled guiltily, pulling on a raven-colored curl by his ear.

“All of you knew this?” she asked with melancholy eyes.

“Yep,” Zabini smirked, happy that he had proven himself correct.

“Mm-hm,” Nott hummed.

“Yes,” Greengrass affirmed, quietly. 

When Liz and I didn’t say anything to either confirm or deny what we knew of the Mona Lisa, Pansy batted her eyes in our direction, practically begging us to help her out. “Did you two know about it?”

“Everyone does, Pansy,” I said nonchalantly.

“Yeah,” Lizzie spoke quietly, which caused to Pansy squeal in indignation and fold her arms, pouting. 

“It’s alright, Pans,” Nott said with a small smile as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Hmph.” The girl turned her head to look out the window.

I wanted to strangle her for being able to be so light, giving what was going on. Lizzie’s mum had died, Voldemort was trying to take over the world, and Pansy was pouting because she hadn’t known that the Mona Lisa was in the Louvre.

\-----

Hogwarts had changed. It wasn’t something you could see. It was a feeling. Something in the air.

Tension was dripping from the air like the dense rain that had begun to dribble from the sky, which was dark grey with the storm clouds, and seemed ominous and eerie. The chill of the air seeped deep into my bones, feeling as if it was close touching my soul. I shivered.

From my perspective on the platform, several Hogsmeade shops that had once been covered in bright, cheerful shop displays, had been boarded up and closed, including the ever-so-popular Zonko’s, and there was no one walking through it’s barren streets, though it was usually packed when the students first arrived for the year. 

It was like someone had sucked all of the heart out of it all.

“Draco?” Lizzie questioned my pause and pulled my gaze from the empty streets of Hogsmeade to her worried face. Two small lines had appeared between her furrowed eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I assured her, taking her hand and managing a small smile. “Let’s get to the carriages. We wouldn’t want to miss the feast.”

“No,” she agreed quietly, “wouldn’t want that.” Yet when the carriages came into view, both Lizzie and I stopped in our tracks.

“Are you…?” Her question trailed off.

“Yeah,” I breathed. In front of the carriages were large, black, skeletal horses. “Those must be thestrals.”

“Thestrals…”

“You can only see them if you’ve seen death,” I explained, not taking my eyes off of the horses. “And after Dumbledore…” Not wanting to get into the subject of Dumbledore’s death, I stopped my sentence there.

We approached the carriages with caution, not sure how to react to the ability to see the winged horses. They had no flesh, their black coat clinging to their skeletons underneath, every bone visible. Their faces possessed reptilian features: slitted nostrils, sharp cheekbones, and arched eyebrow bones. Their wide, leathery wings resembled those of a bat; their large eyes were a milky white and seemed to be staring right through us.

When we had safely climbed into the carriage, we gave each other a worried and unbelieving glance, but spent the ride to the castle in silence.

Dark shadows drifted across the sky like rubbish in the wind, illuminated every now and then by a flash of lightning high up in the clouds. I watched them warily on the trip into the castle.

Even the castle itself seemed to sense the oncoming war, for the portraits were less cheerful than usual and the candles floating in the Great Hall seemed dimmer. It was as if Voldemort was sucking the life out of everyone and everything.

Lizzie and I sat down at the Slytherin table and watched as the other students walked in. They were all whispering among themselves with furrowed eyebrows and worry lines around their mouths rather than the gleeful chatter and wide smiles that usually surrounded us during the Welcoming Feast.

By the time all of the students had entered the Great Hall and taken their seats at their respective tables, Snape had stood from his spot at the Head Table in the headmaster’s seat that I had only ever seen Dumbledore occupy. It seemed so very wrong.

“That’s enough,” he spoke quietly, but his voice echoed out over the Hall and effectively made every student stop talking immediately and turn their heads towards him with apprehension. “Due to Professor Dumbledore’s unfortunate… accident… at the end of last year, I will be assuming the position as Headmaster.”


	10. Chapter 10

Lizzie’s POV:

After Snape announced his advancement to headmaster, a collective enraged whisper spread among the students, a large portion of which seemed to be centering around the Gryffindor table. I caught a few words here and there including, “...can’t be bloody serious…”, “...will be fantastic…”, and “...end to us all…”

“Silence!” Snape snapped sharply, immediately stopping all of the murmurs. Many of the students were glaring daggers up at him, probably hoping he would drop dead right then and there. “We have a few additions to the staff this year. Amycus Carrow will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and Alecto Carrow will be teaching Muggle Studies. Together, they will be in charge of discipline.”

Two people, a squat, hunched, and doughy faced man, along with a stocky and sloped-shouldered woman, stood up. Beside me, Draco tensed and I knew why. Those two were on the tower the night Dumbledore died and had attended the few Death Eater meetings we had been at alongside us.

“Along with additions to the staff, there have been a few new rules added.” Snape’s beady, black eyes moved over the crowd, daring one of them to step out of line. I shivered as his gaze locked momentarily with mine. “The first of which will put an end to all school activities. Including quidditch, dueling clubs, and all other related activities.”

“Rubbish!” Someone yelled from the Gryffindor table, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. I snapped my head in this direction to see Seamus Finnigan’s outraged face glaring up at Snape. His attendance here this year surprised me, seeing as seeing as his dad is a muggle and only children who could prove their pure magical ancestry were allowed. “You can’t ban quidditch!”

“It will do you well, Mr. Finnigan, to follow these rules unless you would like to see what the Carrows are here to do,” Snape sneered at Seamus with such venom that even I receded. 

Seamus’ angry, red face turned pink with embarrassment as he drew himself back, trying to hide behind the boy beside him.

“As I was saying, there will be absolutely no school activities and any to be found operating without my direct permission, will be severely punished. There will also be positively no trips to Hogsmeade at any time.” He paused for a heartbeat to let this sink in before continuing. “The former curfew of 10 o’clock has been altered to 6 o’clock. Any student caught out of bed, will be punished. 

“I recommend that you make your behavior inside of these walls your number one priority. Those of you who are foolish enough to misbehave will be punished in a manner that will ensure you never do so again.” 

I allowed my eyes move from Snape’s greasy head and around the room and on every face my eyes landed on, I saw mouths agape and looks of disgust. A few of the teachers were practically shaking with rage, however, the Carrows were grinning.

“Owl post is being read, monitored, and approved. No other form of communication is allowed. That includes Floo, apparation, flying or any other form of transport. Dementors stand at every entrance to help enforce this rule. The purpose of this school year will be to educate. That is all for now.” He waved his hand and the tables filled with the usual feast, but the houselves must not have had their hearts in the preparation. The mashed potatoes looked lumpy, the fruit looked soft in all the wrong places, and the bread had bits of mold on it. I actually resisted the urge to gag at the sight of the food.

“Welcome back to Hogwarts everyone,” I heard someone mutter a few spaces down from me.

\-----

When the last of the scrappy pudding and congealed juice had been cleared away, Snape told all of the students to follow our heads of house back to our house common room.

“Alright everyone,” Slughorn called out over everyone once we were congregated in front of the span of wall that would reveal the door to the common room. “The password is ‘magicae supra mundanam’. Can you all repeat that back to me?”

A jumbled mess of voices mumbled ‘magicae supra mundanam’.

“Wonderful,” he smiled as the stone wall slid open. “Everyone have a brilliant night.” Slowly but steadily, the students began to funnel into the common room and to their dormitories, exhausted and wanting the day to be over. No one student hung back in the common room.

“I can’t believe the ruddy password,” I muttered to myself with a sneer.

“What was that?” Draco asked, having not heard what I had said.

“I said I can’t believe the password,” I repeated to him a bit louder. “‘Magicae supra mundanam’. It’s rubbish.” 

Draco nodded. “‘Magic over mundane’.”

“Wizards are not superior to muggles. Does Snape set the common room passwords? I might just have to have a word with that greasy haired, beady eyed, arsehole of a slimeball,” I snapped, crossing my arms and roughly setting myself down on the sofa in front of the fire, which was burning apathetically.

“I figured that this year would be quite different from former years, but I don’t think I ever imagined Snape as the Headmaster,” Draco replied, sitting beside me.

“I think I’d rather have You-Know-Who himself as Headmaster,” I growled. Draco raised his eyebrows and looked at me incredulously. “Okay, yeah, maybe not, but I’m not happy about Snape.”

“I’m sure that he’s just trying to scare everyone into obeying him,” Draco said. 

“He’s doing a great job at it,” I frowned. “He’s also managing to make everyone angry with him. I mean taking quidditch away? You might as well take away our wands.”

“Not his best move, I admit-”

“‘Not his best move’,” I scoffed. “Definitely not. Neither was setting the password as Magicae supra mundanam. That is wrong on one-hundred and one levels. I’d rather have ‘Snape is awesome’. Or ‘Screw that Samuels girl’. Or even ‘All hail You-Know-Who’. ‘Magic over mundane’ is just horrible of him.”

“Well, he can be-”

“You know, I think he just doesn’t want us to have fun this year.” I continued, cutting Draco off and continuing my rant. “That’s why he’s taken away quidditch and every other club. He wants us to all suffer in this castle as he plays king.”

“We’re not-”

“I bet you that’s what his office door says. ‘King Snape’. Next, he’s going to make us call him that instead of ‘Headmaster’.”

“King Snape,” Draco chuckled lightly. The noise sounded wrong as it echoed off of the dungeon walls back at us.

“Yeah. King Snape. He’s gonna make himself a crown and walk around with his wand in a scepter. We’re all going to have to kiss his feet before each meal and not make eye contact lest we risk being turned to stone,” I huffed with pursed lips. “You know, I honestly didn’t mind him all that much before today. He was just my Potions professor that could sometimes be a right pain, but now I want to curse him into next month.”

“Snape is not a bad guy,” Draco sighed. “I bet you he’s just following orders from You-Know-Who. He’s just a puppet really. Though I do think ‘King Snape’ would be rather entertaining.”

“Good morning, King Snape!” I crowed in a faux cheery voice. “Wonderful day, isn’t it? I think I’m just going to go down a cauldron of Shrinking Potion so you can squish me under your shoe like the bug you think I am!”

“Do you want to know a secret about how to get him to like you?” Draco hummed quietly, stretching his arm across my shoulders.

“Sure,” I replied, leaning into his body and letting his warmth encase me.

“Be brilliant but not cocky,” he whispered. “Blend into the background.”

“I’ve done that for six years now and he still looks at me like I smell foul,” I frowned, picturing the glower in the back of my mind.

“That’s just his face.”


	11. Chapter 11

Draco’s POV:

Defense Against the Dark Arts became known simply as Dark Arts because Amycus Carrow had taken to teaching us all of the darkest aspects of magic instead of how to defend ourselves against it. On the other hand, Alecto Carrow taught us to believe that muggles were horrible creatures that needed to be eradicated, and together, the two of them became the bane of any troublemaking student. Their punishments were absolutely cruel and unfair. They locked students in dark classrooms for hours without their wands or any means of escape. They used the Cruciatus curse on those who acted out the most. The school came to fear the names of the Carrows as much as they feared Lord Voldemort’s.

“Today,” Amycus gave a wicked grin to those of us sitting in front of him and rubbed his hands together as if he were plotting something evil, “we will be practising one of my favorite spells. I have a few subjects here to practise it on. Come on in!” He turned over his shoulder and shouted towards the door behind him. A group of meek first years filed into the room with expressions of horror upon their faces. “Today we will be practising the Cruciatus curse.”

“What?” a Gryffindor exclaimed, their eyes so wide that I could see their hazel iris’ from across the room.

“Just for that, Mr. Augusta, you will be the first to learn this spell.” Amycus smirked and waved his hand towards the student who he had called Mr. Augusta. “And Miss Lincoln, please step forward.” A small girl with long, blonde hair and bright, blue eyes stepped forward, her chin jutted into the air. Her yellow, Hufflepuff robes clashed with her hair. “Mr. Augusta, please come stand in front of the class,” Amycus spoke.

“This is barbaric!” Augusta replied in horror, his eyes still wider than an orange. “You want us to torture first years?”

“You will do as I say unless you would like another student to practise their spell on you,” Amycus commanded, his quiet voice echoing around the room with venom. “Mr. Augusta, now.” Augusta stood slowly and walked stiffly to the front of the classroom, his beech-wood wand standing out to his dark skin. 

“Now, Mr. Augusta, the spell is simply crucio. You must point your wand towards Miss Lincoln and speak this incantation, but you must mean it.” Augusta lifted his wand and pointed it towards Lincoln, whose tan chin was still pointed towards the sky. Her nose crinkled in anger and she glared towards Amycus, throwing daggers with her gaze.

“Don’t do it, Ethan!” Neville Longbottom shouted, standing up. 

“Mr. Longbottom,” Amycus snapped without taking his eyes off of the students of his demonstration, “detention. See me after class.” Longbottom, sat back down but glared at Amycus with the same expression that Lincoln had. “Any time now, Mr. Augusta.”

“C-crucio,” Augusta whispered, his voice carrying easily through the silent room. Lincoln flinched, but looked completely fine otherwise.

“You have to mean it!” Amycus shouted, making Augusta flinch. “Here let me show you. Crucio!” The boy collapsed onto the ground and began to writhe, screaming with so much pain that I cringed. 

Amycus held him under the spell long enough for Lizzie to plug her ears beside me before he released Augusta. When he did release him, Augusta was panting as if he had just ran the length of the castle. “Up. And cast it correctly this time, unless you want another go.”

Slowly and difficulty, Augusta got to his feet. His face was glistening with sweat and was scrunched up with the lingering pain of the curse as he aimed his wand towards Lincoln and spoke with a renewed strength. “Crucio.” He looked as if he were going to cry for putting Lincoln under so much pain. The poor girl’s face started turning dark red, but she stayed quiet and on her feet through Augusta’s curse. 

“Give in, Miss Lincoln,” Amycus sneered. “Embrace the pain.”

Her knees gave way and they hit the floor with a thud, but she remained thoroughly quiet. Her face was turning purple now and her hands were clenched so tightly that I saw a line of blood sliding through the cracks of her fists. But she still remained silent.

When Augusta released her from the curse, her face slowly regained its color and she got back to her feet, panting. 

“Thank you. Mr. Augusta. You may take your seat,” Amycus sneered, looking around the room for a new victim. “Miss Samuel’s, will you join me at the front of the room?” 

Beside me, Lizzie’s back straightened and her skin paled.

“Professor Carrow?” I questioned in panic, trying to save Lizzie. “May I have a go?”

“I was speaking to Miss Samuels, Mr. Malfoy,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes at me. I turned to Lizzie to see that her face was now white as snow. She straightened her knees and walked to the front of the classroom without so much as a glance in my direction. “Mr. Fritz, please step forwards.” A tall boy with dirty blonde hair and tan skin stepped forwards. His face was one that was trying to stay strong, but failing miserably. Amycus stepped uncomfortably close to her and smirked at the way she flinched. “You know what to do.”

Lizzie lifted her wand and pointed it to the boy’s chest, but hesitated.

“Is there a problem, Miss Samuels?” 

Her voice shook slightly as she replied, “N-no.” I wanted nothing more than to jump up and save her from having to do this to what was probably an innocent kid, but knew that doing that would dangerous for everyone. 

“Then cast the spell.”

“Crucio,” she spoke firmly. Fritz collapsed to the ground, much as Augusta had, and screamed, his voice cracking in the process. 

Lizzie released him from the spell almost as quickly as she had cast it, but Fritz remained sobbing on the ground. 

“Thank you, Miss Samuels. You may return to your seat.” Amycus gave Lizzie a curt nod before turning towards Fritz. “Stand up and return to your place, Mr. Fritz. Unless you would like to take another spell.” With this threat, Fritz stood and hurried back to his place in the group of first years, his knees shaking.

When Lizzie returned to her seat beside me, she was shaking slightly. “Grayson…” she whispered to me. “He reminded me of Grayson.”

“Listen to me,” I spoke, turning to her and putting a hand on her thigh. “That boy was not your brother. You did what you had to do.”

“I did what I had to do…” she repeated as if in a trance.

\-----

Lizzie’s POV:

Grayson,

Hogwarts has really gone to the dogs. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which had become a second home and safe haven for so many students, has fallen into You-Know-Who’s hands, and I’m not sure it could get much worse.

Do you remember the Carrows? Amycus, the short one with the pig-face, and Alecto, the taller one with hunched shoulders? They were appointed heads of punishment and teach Defense Against the Dark Arts (which everyone calls Dark Arts now) and Muggle Studies respectively.

Amycus is so cruel that he made us practise the Cruciatus curse on first years just a few days ago in class. Their horrible, horrible screams will haunt me forever. I had to curse a little boy who looked just like you…

Muggle Studies has become a class where, instead of us learning about muggle culture and odd habits, we are taught about every horrid aspect of their lives from their bloody wars and ‘barbaric’ methods of healing along with the fact that they’re dirty animals that don’t deserve to live in the same world as us magic-folk. If only they could all see how muggles really are. I mean, we were muggles for the longest time before we discovered our magic blood. 

Snape has been appointed headmaster and has forced upon us every rule possible, making life at Hogwarts as tricky and horrid as possible. The usual 10:00 curfew has been changed to 6:00. All activities (including quidditch, chess club, dueling club, etc) have been banned. Our robe sleeves have to be exactly in line with our wrists. Our ties have to be impeccable. Our shoes have to be tied at all times. Our hair has to be pulled back out of the way. We have to refer to professors as Professor ___, sir/ma’am, etc (nothing far from usual, but the fact that this is actually a real rule now makes me a tad angry). Breaking any of these rules or any from the infinite collection of others would result in a punishment from the Carrows which keep getting increasingly more creative. They hung a third year from one of the moving staircases by his robes. He had to hang there for two hours because his robes were too long and brushed the floor when he walked. They’ve locked children in rooms full of bogarts without their wands so they have no means of banishing it. And of course I can’t forget their ever favorite: the Cruciatus curse, which they throw around like confetti. I witness it at least once each passing period between classes.

I want to come home, but Snape won’t let anyone leave the castle. So many students wrote home the very first night that there was a queue down the owlery stairs that seemed to stretch on for miles. There are dementors all over the grounds as well, so any hope of escape in our minds has been frozen by their icy aura. 

Write me back as soon as you can. I need every source of happiness I can get in this hellhole.

Love always,  
Lizzie

P.S. Draco says hello.


	12. Chapter 12

Lizzie’s POV:

“Do you remember me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice sweet.

“I do,” the Fat Lady drawled, crossing her arms in front of her large bust. “You are the Slytherin who demanded to speak to that Hermione Granger last year.”

“That was me,” I admitted, somewhat embarrassed. “I’m really sorry about that. It was kind of an emergency.”

“What are you doing here? By now you must have figured out that Miss Granger didn’t return to Hogwarts this year.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” I grumbled. I had written a few letters to Harry and Hermione, sending them to the Burrow, but had received no answers. “I’m here to see Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley.”

“As I told you the last time you came looking for a Gryffindor, I cannot see through the back end of my portrait, nor can I speak through it.” She rolled her eyes.

“You can walk between portraits, right? So could you please walk to a portrait in the common room and see if they are in there?” I put on my best pleading face and spoke in a charming voice, hoping to appeal to her sweet side.

“Why should I help a Slytherin?” she countered easily, obviously nonplussed by my pleasantries.

“Because I’m asking nicely and I don’t have to,” I replied, dropping the niceness and speaking a bit more harshly. “I could hex you off of your hinges if you’d rather.” She seemed to think this was thoroughly frightening and turned on her heel, waddling from her portrait. “Brilliant choice,” I muttered with a frown.

It was perhaps five minutes before she returned. “They’ll be out any moment now,” she mumbled, put off by losing our standoff.

“Thank you.” I gave her a small smile which she pretended not to see.

When her painting swung open, two people walked out. The short, round faced boy who walked out gave me a tentative smile. He had a large, purple bruise on his right cheekbone. The petite, freckled girl glared at me as if I were a murderer.

“Hi-” I began, only to be cut off by Ginny.

“What do you want?” she snapped with a sneer.

“I came to talk to you two,” I responded, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. 

“About?”

“Could we go to a more private place?” I asked, looking to the painting of the Fat Lady, who was pretending not to eavesdrop.

“Why would-” Ginny began.

“I know a place,” Neville cut in, giving Ginny a stiff look.

“Okay,” I said. “Lead the way.”

The boy started to walk away and Ginny followed, walking quickly to catch up to him. I followed behind the two of them, trying to make as little noise as possible.

While we were walking, they had a hushed conversation. I only caught bits and pieces.

“Why are we-” Ginny whispered.

“-what Harry would do,” Neville retaliated.

“I don’t care what-”

“-at least hear her out.”

By the time we reached Neville’s intended destination, I could tell that neither of them really wanted to talk to me, and I didn’t blame them. Rumors of what had happened on the astronomy tower the night of Dumbledore’s death had spread through the school like wildfire.

“What do you want?” Ginny repeated once we were inside of the Room of Requirement, once again folding her arms.

“I came to explain,” I said softly, wringing my hands and trying not to look them straight in the eye.

“We don’t want your-” Ginny snapped.

Neville cut her off. “Shut up, Ginny,” he sighed. Her head flicked in his direction, and she remained silent.

“Okay,” I whispered. “The summer holiday before last, Draco stopped answering my letters completely, until I received a letter from Malfoy Manor asking me to go there, so I did. I thought Draco had summoned me to explain why he hadn’t been answering me and to apologise, but I was way wrong.

“When I arrived, Lucius Malfoy led me into one of the rooms where my father, Draco’s parents, Draco, You-Know-Who, and I all sat down. My father, who walked out on my family when I was a baby, offered me over to You-Know-Who. He just turned me over like I was a possession. They threatened my mum. Said that if I didn’t join them, they would kill her.” When I said this, Neville’s eyes softened, but Ginny continued to glare. “I was assigned to work on a task with Draco. We were to mend the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things to allow access into the castle to the Death Eaters, and we were to kill Dumbledore.”

“So it was you! Harry was right!” Ginny roared, looking to Neville, who gave her one of the sternest expressions I had ever seen.

“To ensure that we would follow through with the task, he kidnapped my mum.”

“He what?!” Neville exclaimed, his mouth open in horror.

“He sent Lucius Malfoy and my own father to kidnap my mum while we were eating dinner.” I looked down to my hands, which were beginning to sweat. “Draco and I spent months mending the Vanishing Cabinet and trying to find alternate ways of killing Dumbledore without casting the curse. We sent Katie Bell to the castle with a parcel that contained a cursed necklace, and we gave Slughorn poisoned mead, thinking he would give it to Dumbledore. They both failed.”

Ginny opened her mouth, probably to shout at me about almost killing her brother, but Neville gave her another stern look, so she shut her mouth.

“In the end, we finished the Vanishing Cabinet and brought the Death Eaters into the castle, just as we were asked to, but Draco froze me with a Petrificus Totalus and went to kill Dumbledore himself, because he didn’t want me involved. I managed to get out of the spell and track him down, just as he cornered a wandless Dumbledore. But neither of us could cast the spell. The Death Eaters found us and taunted us, telling us to kill him already, but we couldn’t.” I took a breath. “And then Snape showed up. He was the one to kill Dumbledore. I watched Dumbledore fall and that image will forever be burned into my mind. He will haunt me until the day I day and probably after. I will always be the girl who brought about Albus Dumbledore’s death.

“Snape hurried us from the castle, stopping to duel Harry. He told us to keep going, so we did. We apparated to Malfoy Manor, where You-Know-Who was waiting for us. He congratulated us before I demanded he give my mum back. By this point, he had had her locked up for about six months, and he gave her back.

“She was frail. So very, very frail. It was as if they hadn’t fed her that entire time. Draco and I took her to a guest bedroom and left her to rest while we went to brew a potion that would help her. When we got back-” A tear rolled down my cheek. I reached up and wiped it away as quickly as I could. “When we got back, she was gone.”

“Oh…” Neville trailed off, his face softening. “Oh, Lizzie, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, please…” I begged, wiping more tears from my face. “I need to apologise for getting everyone in this mess in the first place. I’m so very sorry. I’m sorry I became a Death Eater. I’m sorry I let Death Eaters into the castle. I’m sorry for poisoning Ron. I’m sorry for cursing Katie. I’m sorry for killing Dumbledore…”

“You didn’t kill Dumbledore,” Ginny mumbled. “Snape did.”

“If it weren’t for me- if it weren't for me Dumbledore would still be alive,” I snivelled. 

“You don’t know that,” Neville replied quietly, trying to comfort me. “One of You-Know-Who’s biggest goals was to bring about Dumbledore’s demise.”

“I want him dead. I want You-Know-Who dead. I want Harry to kill him if I can’t kill him myself,” I whispered in a deadly voice. “I want Hogwarts to go back to the way it was before. I want Dumbledore back.”

“Harry’ll get him,” Neville stated.

“Will he?” I asked. “You don’t even know where he is, do you?”

“Well, no…” He looked to Ginny, asking for help. “But we have to trust that he knows what he’s doing.”

“I’m sure he does,” Ginny spoke, giving Neville a look.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Lizzie, but we have to get going. It’s almost curfew and I don’t fancy any more detentions with the Carrows.”

“Yeah, thank you for listening,” I responded. Neville gave me a nod and a small smile as he and Ginny walked out of the room.

Once the door shut behind them, I looked to the ceiling and sighed. “Wherever you are Harry, I hope you know what you’re doing. We need you.”


	13. Chapter 13

Draco’s POV:

“You summoned me, Headmaster?” I called into the dark office with a knock on the heavy, wooden door and a raspy voice. The last time I had seen this office, it had belonged to Dumbledore, the light, kind, mischievous former headmaster. My heart felt as if it was being clenched by a tight fist.

“Draco, come in,” Snape answered, waving towards the chair in front of his desk. I slowly seated myself in the chair and discreetly studied him. His face had hollowed out some since the last time I had seen him, revealing the bags under his dark eyes. His usually greasy hair seemed less so at the moment, but that could have simply been the lighting. He was wearing his usual black robes that made him look like a vampire. “How are you faring in your classes?”

“Quite alright, sir,” I lied, shoving the images of the Carrows snarling at me from the front of their prospective classrooms.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He nodded stiffly, glancing at the wall beside him where a portrait of a previous headmaster hung. The silver bearded man was sitting in his chair, watching us with an air of uncharacteristic seriousness. I gave the old man a shaky nod once I recovered from the initial shock of his presence, and blanched as I saw his heavy body tumble from the Astronomy tower.

“Sir,” I squeaked, trying to pull myself from the past. After clearing my throat I continued, “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you call me here? Surely it’s not just to see how my classes have been going.”

“Straight to the point as always,” he sighed, a flicker of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I’ve called you here to discuss matters of the Dark Lord.”

“What might these matters be?” I questioned, shifting uncomfortably in my seat as my eyes darted to the portrait of Dumbledore who winked at me but remained stoic.

“The Dark Lord wishes to know if you or Miss Samuels know anything of Harry Potter’s whereabouts.” He folded his hands in front of him on top of his desk and looked at me with his dark eyes as if trying to convey something through his gaze.

“I mean no disrespect by this, sir, but why ask us?”

“It has been noticed by multiple reliable sources that Miss Samuels and Mr. Potter used to be quite close,” he pointed out, looking down his hooked nose at me.

“She hasn’t spoken to him since he cast that curse on me.” After she had told him he was dead to her.

“And you, Draco? Have you any clue where he is?”

“If I saw Harry Potter, I would kill him myself,” I grunted, attempting to make this statement seem as believable as possible.

“Thank you, Draco,” he replied with a nod. “Now, what is your opinion on the Carrow siblings?”

I thought for a moment before I carefully returned, “One might have many different opinions on those two.” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything of my vague statement.

“I am aware that many students are not particularly fond of them and have made attempts to obstruct their teaching and discipline. The actions of these students are less wise than if you would be if you were to attempt the same things.” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Sir?” I gawked, my face drawn up tight. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

“These students are making unwise decisions, and most of them are, unsurprisingly, Gryffindors, which the Carrows would understandably have a grudge against, so they punish these students harshly. However, if a Slytherin might attempt to impede on their discipline and/or teaching, especially if this Slytherin student were a follower of their same leader, their punishment would be significantly less severe.”

“Sir, are you saying I-”

“I’m saying you must make wise choices, Draco. You must also keep Miss Samuels safe. Make sure she doesn’t make unwise choices either.” His eyes were still narrowed, but there seemed to be a certain sharp kindness held in them. A fierce protective air floated through the air.

My eyes darted over to Dumbledore’s portrait, which was, of course, empty.

\-----

“Hmmm, I spoke to Neville and Ginny today,” Lizzie hummed quietly, breaking the silence that had enveloped us as we were lying my bed after a long day of classes. She was lying with her head resting on my bare chest, her hand drawing circles on my stomach and following the white lines of my sectumsempra scars. Having been about to fall asleep, I inhaled sharply and grunted, drawing myself back to consciousness.

“You did, did you?” I questioned. She nodded slowly against my chest. “About what?”

Her hand stopped moving along my skin, and she pressed her palm flat against my chest. “I explained everything to them,” she answered quietly.

“Everything?” I blanched.

“I told them what my father did and what happened to my mum and what really happened on the the astronomy tower.” 

“And what did they say?” I asked cautiously..

“They said they were sorry for my loss and told me that Harry would kill You-Know-... Voldemort. That he knew what he was doing even if we don’t.”

“Let’s hope he does,” I whispered, kissing the top of her head.

“What did the headmaster want with you?” She asked, pulling her hand that was tracing my scars into her chest and snuggling up closer to me. Her hair tickled my arm and made me want to squirm, but I didn’t want to disrupt her comfort.

“He asked me how my classes were going and what I thought of the Carrows. Then he told me how there are Gryffindors messing with them and how it was unwise for them, but would be less unwise if I were to do something similar.”

She lifted her head so she was looking at me with her eyebrows raised. “Did he really?”

“Mhm,” I hummed in confirmation.

“So he’s basically asking you to sabotage them?” She tucked some of her loose hair behind her ear and rested her chin on her fist.

“Sure seems like it,” I replied.

“Whose side do you think he’s really on? Snape? I mean he was really close to Dumbledore in his life, but he was the one to kill him, and now he’s inviting you to subvert his second-in-commands. It’s a bit odd…” She rested her head back on my chest and wiggled until she was comfortable again.

“If I’m being completely honest, I think he’s on the light side,” I confessed, scratching my chin.

“You do?”

“I wasn’t sure before today, but now I think I am,” I repeated. “I think Dumbledore knew we were trying to kill him and asked Snape to kill him instead of one of us, so that You-Know-Who would trust him and so we wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of murdering him. I think Snape is acting as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” she pondered. “Snape, the double agent.”

“I think Snape being headmaster is brilliant. It’s not like having Dumbledore, but it’s better than, say, Bellatrix.”

“That’s true.” She brushed some hair out of her face. “Imagine having Bellatrix as headmistress.”

“That would be horrid,” I cringed. 

“Everyone would have to wear black all the time.” I felt her smile.

“That’s no different than usual. All you wear is black,” I pointed out with a grin.

“Our hair would have to be styled the same way as hers.”

“Oh, no,” I replied. “Can’t have that. You’re hair is too beautiful as it is.” I ruffled her hair, making it stray everywhere.

“Draco!” she smiled, reaching up and pushing it back into place and patting it down quickly. 

“Everyone would have to wear loads of eyeliner just as she does,” I offered, smiling at her.

“I bet you’d look gorgeous in eyeliner and mascara,” she smirked at me.

“Merlin help me!” I grinned. “What is it, love?” I asked, noticing a sharp change in her mood.

“I forgot- It was like-”

“Yeah,” I sighed in agreement, “It was like before.”


	14. Chapter 14

Lizzie’s POV:

Dear Lizzie,

I hope this letter finds you in good health.

You-Know-Who has told all Death Eaters to search for Harry Potter wherever we can. He has people positioned in London, Scotland, Wales, Romania, and even America. He is desperate to find Potter. It’s as if Potter knows a secret about him that could destroy him…

Life outside of Hogwarts isn’t much better than what you described. I’m not sure if you know, but Scrimgeour is dead. Pius Thicknesse has replaced him as Minister, which means that You-Know-Who has full control over the Ministry. One of Thicknesse’s first orders as Minister was to deem Harry Potter as Undesirable No. 1. Harry Potter is the most wanted criminal in Wizarding Britain right now.

Did you know Potter and his two friends (I can’t recall their names at the moment) broke into the Ministry? They used Polyjuice Potion to transform themselves into three Ministry workers and just walked in! No one knows why they broke in, though. However, it is rumored that Potter, in the form of his Ministry worker, walked into a courtroom where Dolores Umbridge (I’m sure you remember her) was interrogating a muggle born witch. There was a commotion and the three friends escaped, but now You-Know-Who knows that Potter is up to something, though I’m not sure even he knows what is going on...

Our father, Yaxley, still has not acknowledged me in any way, which makes me wonder if he even know that I’m his son. I’m debating on whether I should approach him.

Anyway, remember to be careful what you write because all owl mail is being monitored.

-Grayson

\-----

Gray,

I didn’t know any of that! I signed up for a subscription to the Daily Prophet earlier this year, but haven’t received any additional papers since I started Hogwarts this year.

Scrimgeour is dead?! How did that happen? And Thicknesse is Minister now?! And Harry is Undesirable No. 1?! AND he broke into the Ministry?! They really don’t tell us anything here!!

If you hear any more news of Harry, please write me and let me know right away.

Since You-Know-Who is having people look for Harry, are you going to have to leave the area to help? If so, please tell me where you will be so we can keep writing and please stay safe.

I don’t suggest approaching father, he is a real prick. He will try to provoke you into fighting him and, trust me, it’s hard to resist that urge. Draco had to physically hold me back the first time I met him.

Thank you for the reminder that owl mail is being read. I’d forgotten… That could have ended badly if I would have said the wrong thing.

Draco had an odd conversation with Headmaster Snape the other day that you’ll have to remind me to tell you about the next time we see each other. I’d like to pick your brain about it.

Stay safe,  
Lizzie

\-----

“What are you doing?” I asked Draco, walking into the common room and seeing him sitting on one of the smaller chairs and working on something in his lap. I walked up behind him and started rubbing his shoulders.

“Just doodling,” he murmured. 

“Mmm,” I hummed. “Haven’t seen you draw for a while.” I placed my chin on his shoulder and watched his hand work the charcoal across the parchment. 

“Finished my homework and fancied a way to pass time until you came back,” he replied.

“Is that your mum?” I asked, seeing a familiar, smiling face.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“And that’s you?” The image version of Narcissa had a little boy propped on her lap, who was grinning widely.

“It is,” he answered. “She used to sing me a lullaby before bed where she would set me on her lap and sing about all the stars in the sky and the constellations they made.”

“Do you remember how it went?” 

“Of course,” he responded. “I wouldn’t be able to forget it if I died.”

“Hmm.” I walked around the chair and gently pulled the drawing from his grasp, sitting on his lap. “Will you sing it for me?”

“Oh no,” he scoffed. “I can’t sing.”

“You can, you just choose not to,” I corrected. “Come on, it’s only me.” 

“Merlin, no.” He scrunched his nose up.

“Fine, then. Just say the words in rhythm.” He frowned, but didn’t protest.

“If you look up into the sky,  
At just the right moment.  
When the moon is high,  
And the night is slow.  
The stars will reveal their secret.

“They dance across the space,  
Forming pictures for only you to see.  
If you follow their trace,  
You might just find them.

“Regulus shines brightest,  
In Leo the Lion.  
Not conquerable in the slightest,  
Yet Hercules bested the beast,  
So Zeus placed him in the highest.

“Cygnus the swan,  
Glides across the sky.  
Near his lyre he is drawn,  
Lyra, a gift from Hermes,  
Music to make all fawn.

“Gamma Draconis twinkles down,  
Above our home,  
From Draco’s crown.  
The great serpent floats,  
Where he shall never drown.

“And then it goes on about a few other stars,” he said quietly.

“No,” I spoke, upset by the end of his chant, “I like it. Keep going.”

With a sigh, he continued.

“Sirius, the brightest star up there,  
The Dog Star, shines bright in its place,  
In Canis Major fare.  
The Great Dog guards us,  
From threats in the air.

“Behold the magnificent Taurus,  
Inside the bull shines Aldebaran.  
Heed his legendary auras,  
Of power, strength, and love.

“The Female Warrior fights alongside,  
The male huntress the goddess favored.  
To Orion Bellatrix is tied.   
Mind Rigel, who shines brighter,  
Among the tide.

“Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Hydra,  
Sculptor, Scorpius, Sagitta.  
Alpheratz, Schedar, Alphard,  
Sculptoris, Antares, Gamma Sge.

“The stars above us,  
Tell the stories before our time.   
The stars above us,  
Show us our life.

“That’s the end,” he murmured after he finished.

“Merlin,” I sighed. “That’s beautiful. I just wish you would sing it for me.”

“I don’t sing,” he spoke firmly, placing his hand behind my head at the base of my neck. It was chilly and soft against the warmth of my neck.

“Sure,” I smiled, placing my lips against his.


	15. Chapter 15

Lizzie’s POV:

“Room of Requirement. 4 o’clock,” Neville murmured to me as he bumped shoulders with me in the corridor as I was on my way to Potions class.

“What?” I asked, snapping my head around to try and catch him before he disappeared, but he kept walking with his head down.

“Is there a problem, Miss Samuels?” Alecto Carrow asked, her pudgy face menacing as if she were begging for a reason to punish someone. She and her brother had the horrible talent of being in the wrong place at all the wrong times, procuring more students for punishment.

“Of course not, ma’am,” I replied quickly, watching Neville disappear around a corner. I saw Alecto’s face visibly droop in disappointment.

“Then get to class,” she grumbled, gesturing down the hallway with her wand.

“Yes, ma’am,” I returned with a nod, walking away quickly.

The Potions classroom smelled of old parchment, peppermint, and lavender, helping me relax after the encounter with Alecto and Neville. I took a seat in my usual spot in the back of the room, which was full of Hufflepuffs and other Slytherins. Slughorn was leaning on his work table at the front of the classroom, eyeing each student walk into his classroom.

“Alright boys and girls,” he sighed as the last student sat in her chair, “Today we will be working on a fairly simple potion that I’m sure all of you are familiar with. Can anyone tell me what that is?”

A Hufflepuff on the left side of the room raised his hand. 

“Yes, Mr. Wortman?” Slughorn pointed to the black-haired boy, who dropped his hand and glanced around the class a bit nervously before answering.

“Is it Amortentia, sir?” the boy asked.

“It is indeed. Would you mind telling the class how you knew that?”

“Well, I can smell it, sir,” the boy explained, gesturing into the air.

“What do you smell, Mr. Wortman?”

“I smell…” the boy took a deep breath, “I smell freshly baked pancakes, and mud, and wet paint, and… and vanilla perfume.” His face tinged pink as a few Slytherins sniggered.

“Thank you, Mr. Wortman. 15 points to Hufflepuff.” Slughorn stood up and waved his wand so the door to the store cupboards opened. “Brew a cauldron of Amortentia and submit a phial with your name on it to me by the end of the class.”

Chair screeched on the floor as people stood up and made their way towards the store cupboards to collect their ingredients. As usual, I started my fire up before getting the ingredients, letting the initial rush die down.

Into my arms, I pulled a small phial of pearl dust, rose thorns, Ashwinder eggs, powdered Moonstone, and peppermint. 

When I returned to my cauldron, I dropped three rose thorns into the base of dragon saliva and stirred it twice clockwise. I then sprinkled one ounce of powdered Moonstone, stirring thrice counterclockwise before adding the six leaves of peppermint and letting it simmer for eight and a half minutes. The potion slowly turned an olive green as the peppermint leaves sank into the solution. The smell of lavender wafted towards my nose along with the faint smell of peppermint.

After the eight and a half minutes passed, I placed four frozen Ashwinder eggs into the potion and stirred it six times counterclockwise. I then let it sit for another eight and a half minutes as the potion turned chartreuse. 

When the eight and a half minutes passed for the second time, I peppered five and a quarter ounces of pearl dust into the blend and it immediately turned an angry shade of pink, signaling that it was done. So, I dipped a phial in, careful not to get any on my hand, and wrote my name on the side. 

Lizzie Samuels

I took a long breath with the phial in front of my nose, revelling in the ambrosial feeling that spread throughout my body with the comforting aromas coming from the potion. 

I walked it up to Professor Slughorn, who was scribbling on an essay and looked up as I approached.

“Here’s my Amortentia solution, sir,” I spoke as I held out the corked phial for him.

“Already? My, my, Miss Samuels. You are a quick worker,” he gave me crooked smile. His plump fingers closed around it and placed it in a storage container.

 

“I enjoy brewing potions, so can brew fairly quickly,” I explained.

“Have you decided on what you would like to do after Hogwarts?” he asked.

“Well, I wanted to be an Auror, but I’m not sure that’s what I’m want anymore.” I frowned. I hadn’t thought about life after Hogwarts in a while, as I had been too busy trying to survive the next five minutes.

“Have you ever explored the idea of teaching?” he queried, folding his hands over the essay he had been grading.

“Sir?” I furrowed my eyebrows, not quite sure what was asking of me.

“Well, my dear, I’m an old man. I’m planning on retiring here sometime soon and I’m going to need someone to succeed me.” His mustache moved like a wave as he spoke.

“Sir, are you asking me to teach Potions?”

“Of course you’ll need at least three years of after-school life experience before you could apply, but I’m planning on retiring around that time.” I remained silent, speechless due to the thought of teaching Potions. “Think about it, my dear,” he laughed. “I’m sure Headmaster Snape knows what an exceptional student you are from teaching you for all of those years, but I could put in a good word with him as well.”

“I’ll think about it, sir,” I replied. “Thank you.” I nodded my head and returned to my station, where I cleaned up the small mess I had made.

\-----

I need to see Neville.  
I need to see Neville.  
I need to see Neville.

I paced in front of the expanse of wall in the seventh floor corridor that revealed the Room of Requirement, asking to see Neville.

The snakes of iron slithered across the stone wall, showing us the door to the Room of Requirement.

I opened the door with an air of caution, peeking around the wood, not sure what would be awaiting us on the other side. But the other side of the door seemed free of threats, revealing only Neville, Ginny, Luna, and a few other students I recognized.

“Hi, Lizzie,” Neville grinned as I fully entered the room, leaving the door open behind me. “I wasn’t sure you would come.”

“I- uh,” I stuttered, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend.” I saw Ginny cross her arms, already catching on. 

“Oh, no, I don’t mind,” he replied. “Who is it?”

“Erm, Draco…?” I spoke, my voice coming out as a question. The boy came in behind me and stood defensively beside me after shutting the door.

“Oh, hell no,” Ginny snapped, drawing her wand and stomping towards Draco. I quickly stepped between the two.

“We’re here to help!” I argued, closing my fist around my wand in my pocket, preparing to shield both Draco and me. “We hate this Death Eater rule as much as you do. We want to help you.”

“Really, then?” Ginny sneered, her face turning red as her hair. “Roll up your sleeves.”

My stomach dropped into my shoes, but before I showed her my weakness, I retorted, “Fine.” I ripped my left sleeve up to my elbow, showing everyone in the room the Dark Mark that was inked into my skin. A collective gasp echoed around the room along with offended whispers. “I told you how I got this. I didn’t choose it.”

“Your turn, Malfoy,” Ginny barked. Draco slowly pulled the sleeves of his robes up, also revealing his Dark Mark. “You’re Death Eaters. You’re here to spy.” She drew her wand and pointed it in our direction. “Get out.”

“Ginny, I’ve expl-”

“Get out.” She spoke with a deathly calmness that scared me. The knuckles gripping her wand were white.

“Stop it, Ginny,” Neville grunted, grabbing Ginny’s wand from her.

“Neville!” she protested.

“No, Lizzie told us what happened and she said she wants to help us. We can use all the help we can get. If you haven’t noticed, the D.A. has shrunk rather significantly.” He spread his arms, gesturing to the small group surrounding us.

“I don’t trust them. Especially Malfoy.” She snapped her head in our direction and glared daggers at Draco. “Don’t you remember all those years he taunted us?”

“Of course I do, but I trust Lizzie, and she trusts Malfoy,” he replied quickly.

“That doesn’t mean shit!” she flared.

“We are letting them help, Ginny.” Neville turned towards us with a steely serious expression. “As long as you both promise you are here to help and not spy.”

Before I could reply, Ginny cut in excitedly. “Make them take the Unbreakable Vow.”

“We can’t make them take the Unbreakable Vow, Ginny! Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“I do! And it’s brilliant! This way they can’t go blabbing to Snape or the Carrows about what we’re doing!” Ginny’s face was now red with excitement instead of rage.

‘We don’t even know how to cast it!” Neville countered.

“Do any of you know how to bond an Unbreakable Vow?” Ginny asked, turning desperately to the group of students behind her and Neville. Most of them shook their heads, the rest looked confused, but one boy raised his hand.

“Erm- Actually, I do,” he said hesitantly.

“Michael! Yes!” Ginny pumped her fist into the air.

When Neville gave the dark haired boy an odd look, he shrugged and explained, “I read a lot.”

“Get over here, Michael!” Ginny commanded excitedly. “Neville, you take Malfoy’s hand. Lizzie give me yours.” The ginger girl held her hand out for me to take. Neville heaved a great sigh and held his hand out to Draco, who gave me an odd look, but took the boy’s hand. I grasped Ginny’s.

Michael approached us with his wand in his hand. “I’ll just- erm- do Neville and Malfoy first.” He placed his wand on their connected hands and a thin tongue of flame wrapped itself up Neville’s and Draco’s arms.

“Draco, do you swear to help Dumbledore’s Army to the best of your ability?” Neville asked.

“I do,” Draco answered. Another tongue of fire wrapped around their arms.

“Do you swear never to tell another soul of our actions without the direct permission of either Ginny or me?”

“I do.” Another wire of fire.

“Do you swear to aid Harry Potter and his rebellion against He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?”

“I do.” Another wire of fire.

“Do you swear to protect your fellow members of the Dumbledore’s Army to the best of your ability?”

“I do.” The flames brightened to the point of forcing me to look away and then disappeared completely.

“Is that it?” Neville asked, releasing Draco’s hand.

“That’s it,” Michael replied.

“Now us,” Ginny commanded.

Michael walked towards us and placed the tip of his wand on our connected hands. The same tongue of fire that winded its way around Draco’s and Neville’s arms wound around Ginny and mine’s arms. I expected it to be hot or at least warm, but it was surprisingly cold, sending chills down my spine.

“Lizzie Samuels, do you swear to help Dumbledore’s Army to the best of your ability?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

“I do,” I spoke. Another flickering wire of fire wound its way around our arms. I could feel the connection between me and Ginny strengthen.

“Do you swear never to tell another soul of our actions without the direct permission of Neville or me?”

“I do.” One more tongue twisted around our arms.

“Do you swear to aid Harry Potter and his rebellion against He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?”

“I do.” Another.

“Do you swear to protect your fellow members of the Dumbledore’s Army to the best of your ability?”

“I do,” I spoke with a sense of finality. The flames brightened and disappeared.

“Welcome to Dumbledore’s Army,” Neville grinned at us.


	16. Chapter 16

Draco’s POV:

“Well that sure was a party,” Lizzie sighed as we walked into the common room after the Halloween feast. She threw herself onto the sofa.

“Agreed,” I replied.

The usual bountiful Halloween night feast had been prepared half-heartedly. The familiar decorations, including the jack-o-lanterns and the cornucopias, were absent, instead replaced by more morbid embellishments. The jack-o-lanterns had been replaced by skulls that glowed from the inside out. The cornucopias were instead severed horns of animals that appeared to be still bloody. The bats were still flying around the room, but instead of minding their own business as usual, they had swooped down on the students, landing in their hair and attempting to steal their food.

The usual outstanding and sugary food, had been replaced by bland food like hot dogs and oats. The typical jabberous and excited mood of the room had become quiet and subdued under the rule of Snape and his new deputy headmasters, Amycus and Alecto Carrow.

“What I wouldn’t give for some good, old sherry tart,” she mumbled, draping her arm over her face.

“What I wouldn’t give for some good, old Firewhiskey,” I inform her, sitting on the floor in front of the sofa.

“We’re not allowed to Hogsmeade,” Lizzie growled, saying that she too could use some alcohol. “And it’s past curfew, so even if the kitchens had some, we wouldn’t be able to get any without the risk of being caught by the Carrows.”

“We don’t have to leave the room for some,” I told her cheekily.

“What do you mean?” She pulled the arm off of her face and rolled over so she was looking at me.

“I know how to transfigure water into Firewhiskey.” I stood up and grabbed a large, decorative goblet from a shelf and filled it with water. “Mutatio.” The clear liquid in the silvery goblet changed into a honey colored liquid that smelled strongly. I smirked at Liz and then took a big gulp, before passing it to her.

“No way,” she stammered, taking quite a large drink. “Where’d you learn this?” Another drink. She then passed it back to me.

“I heard Seamus Finnigan casting it back in fifth year before you got poisoned, and when you did get poisoned, I needed some liquid courage to deal with it all. I spent a solid amount of that time you were asleep drunk.” I chuckled.

“And no one noticed?” She asked, eyes wide.

“Oh, I’m sure many people noticed, but everyone knew I was upset about you, so they let it slide.” I drained the goblet and refilled it, transfiguring it into more Firewhiskey.

“You are mental, Draco Lucille Malfoy,” she smiled crookedly.

“You know my middle name’s Lucius, right?” I passed her the goblet.

“What’d I say?”

“Lucille.”

“Draco Lucille Malfoy…” she pondered, taking a drink. “Draco Lucius Malfoy… I like Lucille better.”

“Well, just let me make my way to the Ministry and change it then.”

She laughed a hearty laugh before she got deathly serious. “What was it like when I was dead?”

“You weren’t dead,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“It sure felt like it.” She frowned. “Anyway, answer the question.”

“Well, it was pretty lonely,” I explained. “Crabbe and Goyle tried to cheer me up, but they were annoying so I told them to bugger off and they never spoke to me again.”

“Oh so that’s what happened to them,” she laughed. “I thought they had died along with me.”

“You didn’t die and you’ve had a few classes with them since then, you know.”

“Do you wanna play a game?” she spoke suddenly, leaping up and sloshing a bit of the Firewhiskey. 

“What game?” I asked, taking the goblet from her.

“It’s a muggle game and it’s supposed to be played with loads of people, but it’s just you and me and the common rooms empty and I really want to play it. I haven’t played since I was little.” Her eyes were alight with excitement.

“What’s it called?”

“Twister!”

“How do you play?”

“Well, there’s this mat with spots of colors on them and this board that you spin to tell you what hand or foot to put on what color and you have to try and stay off of the ground.”

“We don’t have this mat or board, though,” I frowned.

“You can turn water into wine like Jesus and I can turn carpets into Twister mats,” she giggled, pointing her wand at the rug that was parked in front of the fire.

“It was Firewhiskey,” I murmured, standing up, “but thanks.”

“Reformabit!” she shouted, causing the brown rug to transform into a white, vinyl mat with red, blue, green, and yellow circles of color.

“Now what about the spinning board?” I asked. She seemed to think about this for a moment before she plucked a book from the bookshelf and turned it into a spinner.

“Alright,” she grinned. “You stand here and I’ll stand here, and I’ll spin this.” She flicked the black needle and made it spin around before it landed pointing to a blue dot under the right hand symbol. “Right hand blue.” She squatted and plopped her hand onto one of the blue circles. “Now you put your right hand on any of the blue circles.”

“What is the point of this game?” I placed a hand of a blue circle.

“To win!” she shouted, spinning the spinner again. “Right foot green.”

I frowned and put my right foot on a green circle, which was on the other side of the yellow circles. It wasn’t too hard, seeing as I had long legs, but Lizzie had to stretch herself to reach.

“Left hand yellow.” She threw her hand onto a yellow circle and so did I.

“Right foot red.” She gracefully rolled her body in the air and moved her right foot from the blue circle to the red circle all the way across the mat.

“How is that possible?” I asked, trying to wiggle myself around as she had.

“You can do it!” she giggled, but I couldn’t. My arse landed on the ground. “I win!”

“Hmph,” I grumbled, standing up, “I slipped.”

“I still won.”

“Another game then,” I demanded. “I’ll show you this time.” I pulled my robes, tie, socks, and shoes off, ready to win.

“Alright, then,” she smirked, doing the same and guzzling some more Firewhiskey. “Left foot yellow.” She handed me the goblet and put a foot on the yellow circle directly in front of her.

“Easy,” I scoffed, once again draining the goblet and putting my left foot on a yellow circle.

“Right foot red,” she smirked. She was able to simply step out onto a red circle, but I had to turn all the way around to touch a red circle.

“Left hand red,” she spoke, leaning forward and placing a hand on a red circle. I leaned backwards twisted my body so I was able to plant a hand on a red circle.

“Left foot blue.” She slid her left foot onto a blue circle completely out of her way to show off. I frowned and placed mine on the one right next to hers.

“Right foot green.” Her right foot landed on a green circle that was directly beneath me.

“Left hand yellow.” Her left hand also went to a circle beneath me.

“Are you trying to knock me over?”

“Absolutely not!” she giggled. “Right foot blue.” Before she could move, I moved my foot to a blue spot right under her arse. She smirked and wrapped her leg around mine to reach the circle on the other side of my foot.

“Left hand blue.” I placed my hand right next to my foot, so I was leaning over top of her.

“I am not losing this time,” I growled, getting breathtakingly close to her face.

“We’ll see about that,” she smirked. “Right hand yellow.” I moved my hand as she did and we both chose adjacent circles.

“Right foot yellow.”

“Left foot green.”

“Right hand blue.”

“Right hand green.”

“Left hand blue.”

By this time, we were hopelessly entangled in each other. I was leaning over top of her, and she was stretched out underneath of me, somehow managing to reach the circle that was farthest away from her.

“Left hand red.” I went to move my hand, but felt my right foot slip out from beneath me. I fell on Lizzie. My hands were on either side of her head and her hair was spread around her head like a halo. Her face was pink from holding such an awkward position.

“I win,” she whispered, staring up at me and shifting her leg ever so slightly so that her knee brushed against my crotch.

“I don’t think so, love,” I replied. “You hit the ground first.” And then I kissed her roughly, feeling the alcohol coursing through my veins. Her hands wound themselves in my hair and pulled at the buttons on my shirt until she was able to slide it off, then they raked down my back, surely leaving long stripes of red on my pale skin. I lowered myself closer to her so that our bodies were flush against each other.

I let my mouth stray from hers as I began to pepper kisses along her jawline and down her neck, where I started sucking on her skin, sure to leave a large, purple mark, labeling her as mine. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as her soft moans of pleasure echoed through my body, causing blood to rush to all the right areas. 

I lifted one hand from the ground and slid it beneath her back and murmured, “My dorm,” into her lips.


	17. Chapter 17

Lizzie’s POV:

After Draco and I were accepted into Dumbledore’s Army, graffiti began to pop around Hogwarts. Students aiding in the rebellion were drawing on any surface they could find. “Dumbledore’s Army: Still Recruiting”, “Join the Fight”, “Fuck Snape” were a few of the less vulgar ones. Personally, I never put up a sign like this, but I could recognize some of the handwriting. I noticed Ginny’s choppy handwriting making up the phrase, “Long Live Dumbledore’s Army!” I saw Luna’s gentle and swooping writing on a wall near Moaning Myrtle’s toilet saying, “Constant Vigilance”. I couldn’t help but smile at that. Anyone could remember Mad Eye Moody’s ‘constant vigilance’.

The staff loyal to Voldemort tried with all of their might to remove the graffiti from the walls, some coming right off, others seemingly protected with strong shielding spells. The rest of the staff made it look like they were trying to remove it, but gave feeble attempts. McGonagall used a simple Scourgify which didn’t make a scratch on the writing, then shrugged before walking away. Flitwick just drew circles in the air with his wand, pretending to cast a spell.

“Neville,” I murmured, catching up with the boy in the corridor, Draco jogging beside me to keep up, “have you noticed all of the writings on the walls?”

“I have,” he replied, giving me a sideways glance.

“Know anything about it?”

“I guess that depends on who you ask,” he smirked. I grinned as he paced in front of the wall.

The door to the Room of Requirement appeared before us, and Neville grasped the handle, giving a great heave to pull it open. It opened to reveal a large group of people, whose names I have come to know. Lavender Brown, the dark-skinned Gryffindor girl with golden brown hair that curled in tight ringlets down her shoulders. Hannah Abbott, the tall, pink faced Hufflepuff with long blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Ernie Macmillan, the stout Hufflepuff boy with dark blonde hair.

“Hello, everyone!” Neville called, spreading his arms and grinning at all of the students.

“What’s our next step?” Michael Corner asked. “Breaking into the Carrows’ offices and stealing their wands? Jumping Snape on his next trip to the toilet?” He got a few odd looks from the room with the last idea.

“Well,” Neville smirked, rubbing his hands together, “I do have an idea.”

“What is is?” Ginny demanded, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. This was her element. She was a natural born rebel.

“We are going to break into Snape’s office.”

“And?” Terry Boot prompted impatiently when he didn’t say anything more.

“Steal the Gryffindor Sword.”

\-----

“Are we sure about this?” I asked the three people surrounding me. 

“Shhhh,” Ginny hissed. 

Ginny, Neville, Luna, and I were sneaking through the corridors covered with disillusionment charms to help hide us. Since Draco was the one who initially told Neville that the Gryffindor Sword was in Snape’s office, Neville had wanted him to come with, but Ginny had absolutely refused. So Draco had suggested that I go in his place.

“Yes, we’re sure,” Neville told me quietly.

“Do we know the password to get in?” I asked.

“Shut up, Samuels!” Ginny hissed, stomping her feet.

“We’re going to guess it,” Neville explained patiently. “We figured that if Luna couldn’t get it for us, you could, since you’re a Slytherin and so is Snape.”

“You know, Snape is Draco’s godfather, so he would probably have better luck at this than I would,” I frowned.

“But he would have sold us out,” Ginny snapped.

“First of all, he can’t. We made the Unbreakable Vow, so he can’t sell you guys out. Second of all, he would never do that. He really wants this side to win the war,” I told them all as we approached the entrance to the Headmaster’s office.

Ginny mumbled something and I decided better of it than to demand to know what she said.

“Alright,” Neville spoke. “So, we’re going to stand here as long as we can, guessing the password. If someone comes along, we’ll get away as fast as possible. If we get in, we take the sword.”

“Are we sure it’s even in there? I mean, Malfoy could be leading us into a trap for all we know…” Ginny said.

“That’s enough!” I snapped, wheeling around to where the Ginny shaped blur was. “You may have your opinions and doubts about Draco, but if you don’t start keeping them to yourself, I am going to rip your mouth off and shove it up your ass! Draco and I made the Unbreakable Vow for a reason. We want to help the Order win the war. We don’t want to live in a world where You-Know-Who is the leader. So, shut up, and let us help you!” 

I was panting with rage, which was the only noise in the corridor around us. Neville, Luna, and Ginny were silent following my outburst. I suspected that they were watching me, but I couldn’t be sure.

“Well, then…” Neville coughed uncomfortably. “Shall we try that password now?”

I turned with a ‘hmph’ to the entrance to Snape’s office and folded my arms across my chest.

“Blibbering Humdinger,” Luna sounded out. “Dirigible plum. Crumple Horned Snorkack.”

“Felix Felicis,” I broke in, deciding to use a more practical approach of guesses. “Polyjuice Potion.”

“Wrackspurts.”

“Amortentia.”

“Nargles. Skin-Walker.”

“Draught of Living Death.”

“Gulping Plimpy.”

“Pepperup Potion.”

“Heliopath.”

“Vimes Potion. Confusing Concoction.”

“Dabberblimp.”

“Draught of Peace.”

“Umgubular Slashkilter.”

“Skele-Gro.”

“Moon Frog.”

“Veritaserum. Wolfsbane. Bloodroot.” At the last guess, Snape’s office opened. “Are you bloody serious, Snape?” I scoffed.

“What? What’s Bloodroot?” Neville queried.

“It’s nothing,” I murmured.

“Isn’t that what Pansy Parkinson used on you in your fifth year, Lizzie?” Luna asked with an airy voice.

“Erm- yeah. How’d you know?” She replied with a shrug and pulled her wand from her pocket. We all followed suit. 

Neville was the first to enter the Headmaster’s office, and he did so cautiously. 

“Can’t see anything,” he whispered.

“Here.” I heard Ginny’s voice beside me and then the torches along the walls lit themselves.

“Thanks,” Neville replied.

The office reminded me strongly of the Slytherin common room. It was dark and damp, and nothing like it had been while Dumbledore took up residence.

“There it is,” I hissed, pointing to a stand behind Snape’s desk.

“There it is,” Neville repeated. I heard his footsteps move towards the stand where the silver sword with rubies in its hilt was protected by a glass case.

“Wait!” I called quickly, moving towards the sword. “What if it’s protected? You know? Booby-trapped?”

“Oh.” I could practically hear Neville’s frown. “Good point. How’d you think of that?”

“It’s what I would have done,” I replied quickly, pointing my wand at the case. “Revelio.” Nothing happened. “Either there’s no protection spells, or there is, but a simple spell won’t reveal them.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to find out,” Ginny said.

“Are you just going to pick it up?” I asked.

“There’s not much else we can do, Lizzie,” Neville answered.

“Okay, but the once you pick it up, we have to get out of here as quickly as possible.”

“Agreed,” Neville spoke. 

“So, who’s going to pick it up?” Luna asked after no one moved.

“I will,” Ginny said brashly, moving forward. “Ready?” No one answered. “Here I go.” I heard her take a breath and then saw a ripple in the air as she reached for the glass case. She lifted it quickly.

Nothing happened.

“Does that mean there’s no protective spells?” Neville whispered so quietly that I had to strain to hear him.

“Erm- I’m not sure… Try picking it up, Ginny,” I pondered. I saw another ripple as Ginny’s hand grasped the hilt of the sword.

Nothing happened.

“Alright, let’s get out of here while we can,” I said anxiously.

“Agreed,” Neville repeated.

I heard the shuffle of three other pairs of feet as we made our way towards the door, the Gryffindor Sword seemingly floating, when a golden ripple spread from said sword.

“What was that?” I asked, panicked.

“I can’t move!” Ginny screeched.

“Neither can I,” Neville grunted.

“I can’t either,” Luna agreed.

“Then why can I?” I asked, moving my arms around and walking a few paces, just to be sure.

“Seriously?” Ginny asked off to my left.

I tapped my wand to the top of my head so the others could see me. “Look,” I told them. I walked in a circle.

“Where are you guys?” I asked.

“I’m here,” Neville said to my right. I turned and moved my hands in front of me until I came in contact with flesh. I undid his disillusionment spell along with Ginny and Luna’s.

“Okay, Finite Incantatem,” I tried, pointing my wand at the three frozen people.

“Where in that little brain of yours did you think that was going to do us any good?” still-frozen-Ginny snapped.

“I could just leave you here instead,” I snapped back. She muttered something in reply, which I didn’t bother to try and listen to.

“If Snape cast that protection spell, I doubt that any spell we know will break it,” Neville frowned.

“I hate to be a downer, but I agree with Neville,” Luna said quietly.

“You guys can’t just stay frozen! The Carrows would kill you!”

“There’s not much you can do, though, Lizzie,” Neville argued.

“I can go get Draco,” I offered, thinking quickly. “He’s better at stuff like this. I’m sure he would-”

“What the devil is going on here?” Snape snapped walking into the room with billowing robes. His eyes scanned the room quickly and once they landed on me, he flicked his wand and I immediately felt the cool breeze like sensation of a disillusionment spell and my body froze.

“Liz-” Neville began, noticing my disappearance, only to be cut off by Snape.

“Silence!”

“Two Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw,” cawed a voice from behind Snape. Amycus Carrow appeared with glinting eyes, along with his sister.

“Caught stealing the sword of Godric Gryffindor from the Headmaster’s office,” Alecto grinned evilly.

“This will be fun,” Amycus smirked.

“Silence, you fools,” Snape commanded, making the two others draw back in fear. “The two of you will take these three and make sure that they are punished sufficiently enough to ensure that they will not attempt anything like this again, understood?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Amycus replied, looking beyond Snape at Neville, Luna, and Ginny, who were cowering in fear. I struggled to free myself from Snape’s bonds, but had no success. 

With a flick of his wand, Luna, Neville, and Ginny were unfrozen. Gryffindor’s sword clattered to Snape’s feet. 

“Take them away,” Snape spoke sharply, bending down and picking up the sword as if it were a fragile piece of pottery.

“Yes, sir,” Amycus spoke.

“Off we go,” Alecto snapped, grabbing Ginny by the back of the neck and leading her out of the room, which drawed the rest of the group out with them.

Once they were gone for a solid amount of time and the door to Snape’s office was shut tightly, the man removed the bonding spell and the disillusionment spell, allowing me to move freely.

“Miss Samuels,” he drawled carefully. “Have a seat.”


	18. Chapter 18

Lizzie’s POV:

“Miss Samuels,” he drawled carefully. “Have a seat.”

“Headmaster-” I began, trying to defend myself and the other three who had attempted the heist beside my side.

“Have a seat, Miss Samuels,” Snape pressed on, gesturing to the wooden chair in front of him. He was now seated in his chair behind his desk, making him appear powerful, but it wasn’t fooling me. I wasn’t scared of this man, but I sat in the chair. “Thank you. Would you like some tea?”

“Sir, I don’t want you to-”

“Would you like some tea?” he urged, looking at me through narrowed eyes.

“No, sir,” I muttered, backing down.

“Now, Miss Samuels, I’m sure Draco told you of the conversation I had with him the other day,” the man prompted.

“He did, sir,” I replied with a nod, careful not to make direct eye contact.

“I figured he would do as much. Now, I’m not sure the two of you took it in the right direction. I did not mean for you to join up with Potter’s Gryffindor pals.” It was odd to hear Severus Snape to say the word ‘pal’. “I was implying that the two of you act on your own.”

“Sir?”

“If the Dark Lord were to hear of your actions today alongside Potter’s friends, he would be beyond displeased, but if he were to hear of you do something recalcitrant with only Draco beside you, it could easily be twisted into something that would ensure your safety and the Dark Lord’s pleasure.”

“May I speak freely, sir?” I asked hesitantly.

“I suppose so,” he replied, pursing his lips.

“He was the one who brought about the death of my mother and there is nothing I want more than his own death. So, I am planning on fighting him in any way possible, and, as a Slytherin, the path that I see bringing me the most success is the one with those people beside me.”

“I do not recommend repeating that to anyone, Miss Samuels. Even saying it to me is very dangerous,” Snape said sternly.

“I realize that, sir.”

“If you feel most confident fighting alongside Longbottom and Weasley, then I suppose there is nothing that I can say or do to dissuade you from that, but I can warn you: be very careful. There are very few people you can trust in this world.”

\-----

“Draco!” I huffed, hurrying into the common room, where we agreed to meet once the theft was finished.

He was lying on the sofa, sprawled out with an arm draped over his eyes, but when he heard me enter, he sat up. “How’d it go?”

“They got caught!” I was panting due to the fact that I had ran all the way to the dungeons from Snape’s office.

“What do you mean ‘they were caught’?” he asked anxiously. I sat down beside him and breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to catch my breath.

“We got there easily and spent a few minutes trying to guess the password. You’ll never guess what it was.”

“What?”

“Bloodroot.”

“No way,” Draco gawked. “Do you know what that means?”

“No?”

“He knew you were going to need to get into his office. I mean, there are millions of other passwords he could have used, but he chose the one that had a significant connection to you.”

“What an ass,” I mumbled. “Anyway, we got in and the sword was behind the desk. Neville was just going to grab it, but I warned him that it was probably under a really strong protection spell. I tried to use revelio, but nothing showed up, so we had no choice but to just grab it. We were fine at first, but then they froze.”

“They froze and you didn’t?”

“Exactly,” I confirmed. “I tried to help them, but nothing was working. Then, Snape came in. When he saw that I was with them, he petrified and concealed me.”

“What? Why?”

“The Carrows followed him in, but didn’t see me. They took Neville, Luna, and Ginny, leaving me alone with Snape.”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “So they’re probably off somewhere in the castle being tortured?”

“Probably.”

“What did Snape do once they were gone?”

“He talked to me. He said that he thinks we misinterpreted the conversation that he had with you. We’re supposed to act alone, not with Harry’s friends.”

“And?”

“And I told him I want You-Know-Who dead.”

“You what?!” he exclaimed, jumping up. “Lizzie, do you know how dangerous that is? What if he tells?”

“I don’t think he will.”

“What makes you think that?” Draco snapped.

“Croyez moi. I may not be fluent in French, but I know enough to know what that means. ‘Trust me’. Snape chose that password. He also chose the password to his office. Bloodroot. He told you to rebel. He didn’t punish me today. He could have sent me with the Carrows, but he sat me down and asked me if I wanted tea. Snape is on our side, Draco.” 

Draco pursed his lips, furrowed his eyebrows, clasped his hands behind his back, and began to pace.

“Oh, don’t you start that,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to make me even more anxious.”

“Snape on our side?”

“We’ve already had this conversation, remember? It was right after your initial conversation with Snape. You’re the one who said you thought he was on our side.”

“This is different!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air with exasperation.

“No, it isn’t,” I frowned.

“You told him that you want the Dark Lord dead! Do you realize how big of a deal that is?”

“Of course I do,” I replied.

“You don’t seem like you do! If Snape tells, you’re dead, Lizzie! He’ll kill you in a heartbeat!”

“At least I’ll die fighting for the right cause,” I argued.

Draco made a frustrated growling noise before throwing his hands into the air again. “You’d be dead, Lizzie!”

“We covered that.”

“Elizabeth Samuels!” he exclaimed angrily.

“Draco Malfoy,” I replied calmly.

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“Stop being so calm! You just handed Snape your death certificate and he has the choice to hand it over to the Dark Lord or not!”

“He won’t.”

“How are you so confident about that?”

 

“How are you not? He’s your godfather.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

 

“That makes him part of your family, and you’re supposed to trust your family.”

“I’m sure the Dark Lord would say the same thing!”

“Stop calling him that,” I huffed. “It makes you sound like a Death Eater.”

“I am a Death Eater!”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, actually. Please explain it to me.” Draco folded his arms in front of his chest like he does when he gets defensive.

“When you call him ‘the Dark Lord’, it makes you sound like a loyal Death Eater, but you’re not.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know you, Draco.”

“Do you? Because you obviously don’t know well enough to keep your opinions to yourself in dangerous company, so how’s the rest of your judgement?”

“What are you saying?” I asked with a dangerous tone, narrowing my eyes.

“I’m saying that I don’t trust your judgement.”

“You don’t trust my judgement,” I repeated. “Well, I’m judging that you are an utter arsehole, Draco Malfoy.” 

I didn’t wait for an answer. I turned on my heel and stormed into my bedroom, locking the door behind me.


	19. Chapter 19

Draco’s POV:

“Lizzie,” I sighed, knocking on her dorm door, “Lizzie, come on.” There was no noise coming from the other side of the door. “Open the door, love.” I sighed again and ran my hands through my hair.

Lizzie was not one to anger quickly, and when she did anger, she usually expressed it passive aggressively, so the fact that she had locked herself in our room was quite a deal. 

“I’m sorry about what I said,” I breathed, resting my forehead on the door. “I was angry and it was out of line. Please open the door.” 

No response.

I sighed for the third time and resigned myself to the fact that I had messed up.

\-----

When I woke the next morning, Lizzie was nowhere to be found. She had woken up before I had and gotten ready for classes quickly just so she didn’t have to see me that morning. 

I got ready for classes slowly, with dragging feet. It was rather different to be going about my morning routine without Lizzie bustling around behind me. To make my day even better, there was a piece of hair that refused to lie flat on my head, despite all of my efforts. 

\-----

The first I saw of Lizzie that day was in Potions class. She had arrived before I had and had positioned herself at one of the front tables, almost directly in front of Slughorn. 

I hurried to the open spot beside her before any other student could claim it. When she noticed that I had appeared, her back straightened and she lifted her chin.

“Lizzie,” I whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

She didn’t reply, but kept her eyes facing straight forward.

“Please just talk to me,” I begged her. “This is getting-”

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen!” Slughorn clapped, standing from his chair and cutting me off. “Today we will be working on the Shrinking Solution. Can anyone tell me of its properties?”

Lizzie’s hand rose into the air, which surprised me. She was usually quiet in classes. 

“Yes, Miss Samuels?” Slughorn prompted with a knowing smile and twinkling eyes.

“The Shrinking Solution, also known as the Shrinking Potion, causes creatures to shrink to a younger form,” she stated simply.

“Wonderful, five points to Slytherin,” he smiled. “The original inventor is not known, for the potion is such an old one that the history is hard to follow. However, Zygmunt Budge is often credited for its invention due to his adaptation in the 1500’s, which made it significantly more potent. So potent, in fact, that when Budge spilled a small amount on the grass outside of his house, a flock of sheep shrank to lambs the size of mice. He used these mice as ear warmers during the bitter winters.” Slughorn gave an amused chortle. “You will find the recipe for the Shrinking Solution on page 213 in your books. When you have finished, pour a small amount into a phial and write your name upon it. I will test it later tonight on a few mice which have decided to take up residence in my office.” He waved his hand and the sound of pages flipping filled the classroom.

“Lizzie-” I began to try and speak to the girl, but she turned and walked to the store cupboard where the majority of the students were now attempting to gather their ingredients. I growled and stoked the fire under my cauldron.

\-----

Lizzie’s POV:

Dear Hermione,

I know that you will never read this because I can’t actually owl it to you seeing as you have disappeared from the face of the earth, but I need to talk to someone and you’re the only friend I have. I’d call Harry my friend, but that’s just complicated… 

Draco and I had a row last night. We joined Dumbledore’s Army, which is now being run by Neville, Ginny, and Luna, and the four of us made an attempt to steal the sword of Gryffindor, which is in Snape’s office, but we got caught. Snape sent the other three with the Carrows and I haven’t seen them since, but he sat me down and we had a talk. I told him how I want You-Know-Who dead and he told me how dangerous a thing that was to say. I know how dangerous it is, but I trust him. I think he is truly on our side and wants You-Know-Who dead, as well.

When I told Draco what I had said to Snape, he got angry with me and told me that he doesn’t trust my judgement. He doesn’t trust Snape, but I think we can. He told Draco and I to fight back against the Death Eater rule on the castle, he made our password ‘croyez moi’, which means ‘trust me’ in French, he didn’t hand me over to the Carrows like he did with Neville, Luna, and Ginny, and he made the password to his office ‘Bloodroot’, which was the poison that was used on me back in fifth year. I know he’s fighting for our side. I can feel it.

I hope whatever you, Harry, and Ron are doing is going well.

Much love,  
Lizzie

\-----

I was sitting on the common room sofa in front of the fireplace working on my Charms essay when Draco entered the room. When he saw me, he froze for a moment before making his way towards me. Still bitter about our argument, I stood with my gathered materials and started to walk towards my dorm, where I was planning on hiding until dinner.

“Lizzie,” he spoke quietly. I ignored him and continued towards my dorm.

I was about two feet away from solitude when the door slammed shut, causing a squeal to erupt from my throat and my arms to drop all of my supplies. I turned around to see Draco standing there with his wand pointing in my direction.

“That’s enough,” he growled, walking towards me with a threatening aura. “You do not get to avoid me anymore. I have apologised several times over for what I had said. I was angry and it was untrue. I don’t distrust your judgement. But you don’t get to avoid me anymore. Suck your pride up and either accept the apology or reject it. But don’t bloody ignore me!” 

As he said all of that, the distance between us grew shorter and shorter until he was about a foot away from me.

“I’ll ignore you if I want to. You don’t own me,” I snapped back, closing the distance until our noses were practically touching.

“No, you don’t get to ignore me! Votre chagrin est mon chagrin. Suck it up and talk to me!” His eyes were alight with anger, but he didn’t scare me. We both knew who held the power in this argument.

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“This is hardly talking,” he countered.

“You can’t make me accept your apology if I don’t want to,” I spat, growing angrier and angrier by the second.

“I’m not trying to make you accept my apology, I just want to talk this out with you! We aren’t going to solve anything if you keep ignoring me!”

“Fine, let’s talk this out,” I replied sharply. “I trust Snape and I told him that I want You-Know-Who dead and you jumped on me for that.”

“Because if he decides to tell You-Know-Who, you’re dead!”

“He’s not going to tell!”

“How do you know that?” he growled.

“He would have done so already if he were going to, but he’s not.”

“How are you so confident about that?”

 

“How are you not?” I scoffed. “He’s your dad’s best friend. He’s your godfather, for Merlin’s sake!”

“That doesn’t mean I have to trust him!”

“That makes him part of your family and you’re supposed to trust your family!”

“You can’t make me trust him!” 

“Why do you care so much about this, anyway?” I asked, leaning back on my heel and crossing my arms. I looked at him with narrowed his eyes.

“Because you could die! How can you be so careless with your life?”

“So?”

“I can’t lose you, Lizzie!”

“You’re not going to lose me!” I huffed, throwing my arms into the air.

“You’re so bloody stubborn!” he exclaimed.

“Get used to it,” I snapped in reply.

“I am used to it, you just keep finding new ways to throw it around!”

“Yeah, since my judgement isn’t any good, I got to make sure yours is working fine.” 

“I’m sorry I said that I don’t trust your judgement! How many times do I have to say it?”

“Obviously more than once.”

“I’m going to keep saying it until it gets through that thick skull of yours.”

“Sod off,” I retorted.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he growled.

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve got to make sure Snape doesn’t kill you.”

“You’re such an ass!” I flared. 

I was going to continue to chew him out, but suddenly his lips were pressed against mine. I wanted to pull back and slap him, but he held my face too tightly. 

Teeth clashed against teeth. Nose collided with nose. Lips fought against lips. 

The angst was practically dripping from the air.

“You’re such an ass,” I growled when he finally released me, and stormed into my dorm.


	20. Chapter 20

Lizzie’s POV:

I didn’t see Ginny, Luna, or Neville until two days after they had been sent off with the Carrow siblings. They were absent from classes and meals for two days, but then suddenly appeared at breakfast.

They were carrying themselves in the same manners that they had before they had disappeared, confident and challenging, but they looked physically weaker. Luna had a black eye that was so swollen that it was practically shut and she looked thinner than normal. Neville also had a black eye, along with a bruised cheek and a broken nose that looked like it had been crudely fixed. Ginny looked the worst of the three. Her lip was sliced wide open, her entire right cheek was purple, a smaller cut crossed the bridge of her nose, and a bruise spotted her left jaw.

Neville and Ginny sat at the Gryffindor table, while Luna sat at the Ravenclaw. I made to stand and go speak to them to see how they were doing and what exactly happened to them, but Draco placed his hand on my arm. “Not here,” he murmured, tipping his head towards the Head Table.

I frowned and glanced at the Head Table. The Carrows were watching their three victims with amusement, while also letting their eyes scan across the Hall to see who else was watching them.

My eyes made contact with Snape’s, who was watching me intently, and with a miniscule shake of his head, I understood that he agreed with Draco. Not here. 

So, I would have to wait to speak to them until we were away from the majority of the school.

\-----

I got my chance after my last class for the day, Transfiguration, as I was heading back to the common room. Neville rounded the corner several feet in front of me, and his eyes landed immediately on me. I grabbed his arm and dragged him into a deserted classroom.

“Neville!” I breathed, happy to see the boy, but upset by his appearance.

“Hey,” he smiled weakly.

“What the bloody hell happened to you three? Why does Ginny look like she got into a fight with a troll?”

“She got it the worst of us because the Carrows didn’t like how mouthy she was. And she was mouthy. Every time one of them said something, she bit back with loads of venom.”

“What exactly did they do to you?” I asked quietly.

“It’d be easier to tell you what they didn’t do to us,” he sighed, bringing a hand up to his face and rubbing his eyes before wincing from the black eye. “They locked us in the dungeons. Chained us up and the lot. Then they took turns practising odd jinxes on us, especially the stinging jinx. Once they got bored with that, they left for the night. We had to sleep on the floor in our chains.” He grimaced and rubbed his wrists as if remembering the painful chafe of the shackles.

“They didn’t feed you?” 

“Not one morsel,” he frowned.

“Merlin! You must be starving!”

“I was sure to eat a large breakfast and lunch,” he spoke. “Anyway, the next morning, they decided to step it up. They used the Cruciatus curse on us until we lost our voices from the screaming. They came back between classes and terrorized us. After classes were over, they came back and cast the killing curse in our direction, just barely missing us.”

“What?!” I exclaimed in outrage. “You can’t possibly be serious!”

“Unfortunately I am,” he scowled. “There were a few times when I was sure that one actually hit Ginny or Luna.”

“That’s barbaric!” I screeched, stomping my foot with fury.

“It is, indeed,” Neville replied. “When they got tired of that, they began to use their hands to punish us. They punched us over and over, slammed their feet into our stomachs, held us by the hair and battered our heads against the walls, hoisted us into the air by our chains and then dropped us.”

“Oh, Neville,” I whispered, “that’s horrid.”

“Ginny got the worst of it because she tried to defend us, so they tried to break her. Of course, they couldn’t. She’s a tough one.”

“She sure is,” I agreed in a hushed tone.

“But then they let us go,” he frowned.

“I shouldn’t have left you,” I mumbled. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, what was that? Where’d you go?”

“It was Snape, he concealed and petrified me.”

“Why?” He furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

“He- uh- well… he sat me down after you guys left and he told me not to be stupid,” I explained quietly, fiddling with my fingers while I spoke.

“And he left me, Luna, and Ginny to the Carrows?”

“He is my boyfriends godfather, I think he thinks that he has to protect me. Believe me, Neville, if there was anything I could have done to help you guys, I would have done it in a heartbeat.”

“I know,” Neville sighed.

\-----

Dear Lizzie,

Our father has finally acknowledged me. It was after a meeting where You-Know-Who lost it on a man named Augustus Rookwood. He didn’t share among the rest of us what Rookwood did wrong, but You-Know-Who was absolutely livid about it. Anyway, back to our father. After that particular meeting, I had been about to apparate away from Malfoy Manor when he approached me. The encounter went something like this:

Him: Hello, there. (He said this with a horrid smirk)  
Me: Oh... hello.  
Him: A fine man, Rookwood, don’t you think?  
Me: Erm- sure.  
Him: It’s a pity he had to go and screw up his one and only task.  
Me: Oh yeah, such a pity.  
Him: If only he had succeeded, we wouldn’t have had to sit through the Dark Lord’s shouting.  
Me: If only…  
Him: Well, it was a pleasure to speak with you, Mr…  
Me: Burr. Aaron Burr.  
Him: A pleasure, Mr. Burr.

I’m such a coward. Looking back, I wish I had decked him as hard as I could, but, in the moment, I was petrified. I didn’t even have the courage to tell him my real name. I had to use Aaron Burr. I don’t even like Aaron Burr! He was the one who killed Alexander Hamilton. Merlin, I’m such a coward… 

You-Know-Who still has a solid amount of his followers out looking for Harry Potter, but I was allowed to stay here because he wants someone on the inside of Gringotts, however, there is a chance that I will be forced to join the searchers if they don’t find a sign of the boy soon.

Write back soon,  
Grayson

\-----

Dear Gray, 

Merlin’s pants… I wish you’d have decked him. I would have if I was allowed, but I was held back when I had received the chance. Did he even realize who you were? Do you think the conversation would have gone differently if he had known who you were?

Not much different has been happening here at Hogwarts. The Carrows are still running their dual-monarchy along the side of Snape, who I hardly ever see outside of the Great Hall. There are, again, a few things that I would like to speak to you about when we speak in person.

I miss you loads. It’s been ages since we have seen each other properly. You have to promise me that we’ll celebrate the holidays together with heaps of sweets. Also, since I probably won’t be going to Draco’s home over the holidays due to the man who has taken up residence there, would it be alright if he came and ate dinner with us? It’s alright if you don’t feel comfortable.

Much love,  
Lizzie


	21. Chapter 21

Draco’s POV:

November passed quickly, too quick for my taste, and suddenly I was thrust into a world where snow fell instead of the leaves. A world where the trees, once full of vibrant, however dying, leaves of rich red, sunset orange, and dirty-yellow colors, were now skeletons of their former selves, their spiney fingers reaching into the cloudy sky as if begging for cover from the chill that had set in. A world where snow constantly fell from the sky, gathering in drifts as tall as me. A world where the wind whipped at the trees, causing their limbs to sway dangerously.

December tiptoed by me just as November had, bringing no mistletoe berries or jolly singing with it as it had in past years.

Time slipped by too quickly and when Lizzie and I were on the Hogsmeade platform, boarding the train that would take us to Platform 9 ¾, I wanted to go back.

“This Christmas is going to be very different, isn’t it?” Lizzie mumbled, sitting herself down in a compartment far away from where the Slytherins sat. She leaned her forehead against the window and watched the other students as they piled onto the train with somber faces.

I couldn’t tell if she was implying that it would be different due to the absence of her mother this year, or the fact that Voldemort was around again. “Yeah,” I breathed, almost hesitant to answer her. I sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to me and kissing her head.

She began to hum quietly, the vibrations tickling me. I listened vaguely, my mind wandering to other things:

What was Christmas to be like if Voldemort was practically living in the manor? 

How would Grayson treat me now that we knew each other were Death Eaters? 

Where was Lizzie going to stay with her mum gone?

Would we even survive the holidays?

“What’re you humming, love?” I asked, attempting to shake those thoughts from my mind.

“That star song that you refused to sing to me,” she smiled coyly, looking up at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. “If I refused to sing it, how do you know what it sounds like?”

“I just make them up,” she replied with a shrug.

“Let me hear part.”

“You refused all that time ago, and now I’m going to refuse,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, stubbornly. I groaned and rolled my eyes.

Before one of us got a chance to speak, the door to our compartment was shoved open with a squeal and a certain pug-faced girl stood there, looking rather pleased to have found us. Lizzie sat bolt upright, pulling out of my arms.

“There you two are!” she said with a smug look, popping one hip out and placing a hand on it. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Why aren’t you sitting with the rest of us?”

“Why?” Lizzie asked, surprised by Pansy’s appearance.

“Why what?” Pansy asked, tilting her head to the side, her sleek black hair slanting with her.

“Why were you looking for us?” Lizzie replied, twisting her face up into an ugly expression. “I mean, it’s not like we’re friends.”

“We are too friends,” Pansy replied, narrowing her eyes.

“We were at one time, but that was then and this is now,” Liz spoke frostily.

“What are you talking about? We are still friends.”

“You tried to poison me, Pansy,” Lizzie scoffed.

“Water under the bridge,” Pansy said, waving a dismissive hand.

“Water under the bridge,” Liz repeated. 

I could sense the tension in the air building, so I tried to step into the argument. “Pans, Lizzie and I are-”

“Hush, Draco,” Lizzie snapped, standing up to be face to face with Pansy. “Water under the bridge, you say? Pansy, you literally tried to kill me! That is not ‘water under the bridge’ in my book. We are not friends.”

Pansy rolled her eyes dramatically. “That was a long time ago. I was young. I was stupid. And I was angry.”

“I almost died!” Lizzie stomped. The anger that she was emitting was coalescing itself into bright orange sparks that danced through the air. My eyes followed them carefully, worried that one might land on something and light it ablaze or that one might land on one of us here in the compartment and harm us.

“Oh, calm down, Liz. It’s not like you actually died.” 

“I was in a coma for ages,” Liz sneered, her lips curling to reveal her teeth in a very animal-like manner. I had never seen her in this way. She was predatory. She was devoid of warmth. She was almost… sinister. 

“I realize that,” the black-haired girl frowned, wrinkling her nose.

“I don’t think you do,” Lizzie replied with a heinous tone. “Because if you did, you would know that approaching me would be very dangerous for your health.”

“Oh, you’re not going to do anything to me,” Pansy said with another roll of her eyes and a smile. The phrase itself was a challenge but her tone said otherwise.

Lizzie scoffed, and the sparks in the air began to amalgamate, forming large arcs of blue-white electricity. The bolts reached dangerously close to Pansy who only just the noticed them. “Not going to do anything,” Lizzie repeated, dangerously slow.

“Lizzie, that’s enough,” I ordered quietly, my eyes still on the bolts.

“I don’t think-” Whatever Pansy was about to say was cut off by a large jolt of the train, throwing Pansy down the corridor and Lizzie across the compartment. I managed to stay in my seat, but leapt up to make sure Lizzie was alright.

“Are you okay?” I asked the girl, anxiety riddling my voice. She lifted herself upright and pushed her hair out of her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbled. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, helping her up.

We peeked our head out of the compartment and looked down the corridor, which was what almost everyone else was doing. 

Pansy, who was still on the floor, looked up at Liz with questioning eyes. “Run along,” my girl snapped. Pansy stood up and, with a flick of her hair, walked quickly back towards the Slytherin compartment.

“Should we go-” I was about to ask if we should go investigate the stop when the train lurched back into motion. “Oh, nevermind, I guess.”

“What the hell was that?” Lizzie asked, turning to me with intense eyes. 

“No clue,” I frowned.

“Listen,” she began, fumbling with her fingers as she sat down and I shut the compartment door. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like I did. I was just so angry.”

“I know you were angry, you were making the air spark. That was a bit hard to miss,” I replied, sitting beside her.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her eyebrows moving towards each other in confusion.

“Lizzie, there were bolts of electricity in the air around you. You were literally sparking,” I explained, curious as to how she hadn’t managed to notice.

“Are you serious?” 

“Yeah,” I sighed, wrapping my arm around her waist. 

“Oh.”


	22. Chapter 22

Lizzie’s POV: 

Getting off of the train proved tough. I knew my mum wasn’t going to be on the platform, but I still found myself searching the crowd for her familiar face and doing a double-look every time my eyes fell on a woman who looked remotely like her. 

“I’ll see you on Christmas for dinner, alright? And no gifts this year. It just seems inappropriate for some reason,” I mumbled, lacing my arms around Draco’s neck and speaking directly into his ear.

“Okay,” he replied, hugging me tight. So tight, in fact, that I could feel his ribs through both of our clothing. 

I took a deep breath of his peppermint scent, saving it in my memories for the moments I would miss him over this break. “Bye,” I whispered, not sure if he could actually hear me over the noise of the crowd, and kissed his cheek.

“Bye,” he repeated.

We released each other from the hug and departed ways, not knowing what might happen to the other in the time we spent apart.

I shuffled my way through the mass of people on the platform, looking for my brother, and telling myself that that woman looks nothing like my mum. And neither does that one. Nor that one.

I suddenly felt very lonely. Draco had gone to his own home for the holidays; Harry, Hermione, and Ron were still missing (for better or for worse); my mum was dead; and my brother was hidden somewhere in this mob, waiting to take me home with him so we could celebrate our first Christmas without our mum. The hole in my gut where she had been ripped from me seemed as tangible as ever.

“Hey, Squirt,” Grayson spoke from behind me and ruffling my hair.

I turned around and smiled up at him. “Hey,” I repeated, reaching out and embracing him. As much as we may have despised each other in our childhood, the death of our mum and this oncoming war had forced us to grow up and showed us just how much we care for each other.

“You ready?” he asked, taking my trunk from me.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied with a sigh.

“Cheers to that.” And together, we left the Platform.

\-----

The only decoration in Grayson’s flat was the medium sized Christmas tree, adorned with silver and gold baubles. I didn’t see any of the ornaments that he and I made in our childhood. No macaroni noodles strung onto strands of twine. No gap-toothed school pictures pasted onto little, foam, Christmas trees. No paper stars scribbled with crayons. 

“Your room is down the hall to the left,” Grayson explained setting my trunk down with a dull thud. “Sorry it’s a bit dull. I didn’t know how you’d like to decorate it. You can do whatever to it, I guess. Just nothing permanent or my landlord will murder me.”

“Sounds like a deal,” I replied, pulling out my wand and levitating my trunk into my room.

The room was bare: white walls devoid of any type of decoration, beige carpeting, and a white door that led to a closet. There was a twin sized bed with navy bedding on the far wall and that was all.

“The loo is across the hall and the kitchen is by the living room. You’re welcome anywhere in the flat except my room is fairly filthy so if, for some reason, you want to go in there, you have been warned,” he chuckled with a shrug, turning from the doorway and walking down the hallway.

“Sounds like a deal,” I repeated with a laugh, which echoed back at me like a mocking snicker. 

Sitting down on my bed, I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth, my eyes welling up as I suddenly remembered why I was here in Grayson’s flat and not in my own bedroom in my own home. 

The tears began to fall down my face. Crystal droplets tracking their way down my cheeks. 

I missed my mum. I missed her so much. I closed my eyes and pictured her face in my mind, but for a scary moment, I struggled with that. My breath hitched in my chest and the tears began to fall more quickly.

“Liz?” Gray called from the doorway. I quickly turned my head away from the door and wiped my tears, not wanting to show him that I was crying. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied with a shaky voice.

“I miss her too,” he whispered shuffling his feet into my bedroom and sitting down beside me on the bed. “Sometimes I swear I can hear her voice. I try to imagine that it’s actually her. That she’s actually talking to me and I’m not imagining it.”

I almost laughed. “I used to talk to the fire in the Slytherin common room like it was her.”

He gave a small chuckle. “We’re mad, aren’t we?”

I turned my head to look at him and saw that his face was in his hands. “Bonkers.”

“Well, Squirt, this madman is hungry. I’m gonna go order us some take away,” he said with a grin, ruffling my hair.

“Chinese?” I asked, looking up at him.

“You got it,” he replied with a wink.

\-----

“Hey, Liz,” Gray said with a piece from his chow mein hanging from the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“I- I’m sorry,” I chuckled, “I’m sure that whatever you’ve got to say is extremely important, but I- I can’t take you serious with that cabbage hanging from your mouth.”

“What?” he blanched, bringing a hand up to his face and brushing away the food. “Oh,” he laughed.

“So what’d you want to tell me?” I asked, taking another bite of my orange chicken.

“Well, I met a girl a few weeks ago-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I interrupted. “A girl? You met a female? Is this female interested in you? Are you interested in this female?”

“If you’d just let me finish-”

“Where’d you meet her? What’s she like? What Hogwarts house was she in?”

 

“Lizzie! Let me finish.”

“Finish quicker then!”

“Her name is Charlotte Donoghue. I met her at a pub in Hackney. She’s amazing and she’s a muggle.”

“A muggle?” I asked, surprised.

“Yes, she’s a muggle,” he replied.

“And you guys are a- a thing?”

He laughed heartily, “She’s my girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, Merlin. Grayson’s got a girlfriend!” I extolled. “Merlin! When can I meet her?”

He gave a quick snort, “I invited her over for dinner on Christmas. Is that alright? I thought we could both have celebrate with our significant others.”

“That’s brilliant,” I smiled in reply, “Does she know that you’re a wizard?”

“She does. It was a right surprise when I pulled out my wand and proved it. Until then I think she thought I was some freak.”

“Thank Merlin my boyfriend is a wizard,” I laughed.

“I think she’s finally accepted it though.”

“I’m not sure she’ll ever accept it, but this means you’re serious about her. How long have you been seeing her?”

“Uh, let’s see… about 6 months,” he said after a few moments of thought.

“Wow, this might actually last,” I joked. “Do you love her?”

“L-love? It’s only been 6 months, I think it’s a bit early for love.”

“Well, when she looks at you, does it feel like your stomach has disappeared? Like you’re all empty and you have this warm and cold feeling at the same time?”

“I guess,” he replied, pursing his lips.

“When she says your name, does it feel like you’re running on air?”

“Well, sure, but-”

“When she laughs, do you get that feeling that you get when you jump into water and the bottom is further down than you think it is and your heart skips a beat?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Grayson?

“What?”

I gave a great grin. “You’re in love.”

“You really think so?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in a scared expression.

“I think I know so.”


	23. Chapter 23

Draco’s POV:

Life was hell.

That was the only way to phrase it.

Lizzie, the one person I wanted to see, the one person who made life worth living anymore, was staying with her brother in London.

Mother’s worry lines were constantly etched into her usually perfect, porcelline face.

Voldemort was practically living in the manor.

There was a never ending stream of moans, screams, or sobs echoing through the walls from the prisoners.

Father expected me to be as cold-hearted and ruthless as he was.

Life was hell.

I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could and held my hands over my ears, but it didn’t help. Even from my place on my bed, across the manor, with my hands over my ears, I could still hear the agonizing, unearthly screams.

“Please,” I whispered, unable to hear myself. “Please. Make it stop.”

\-----

Lizzie’s POV: 

“Lizzie.”

A voice drifted through my mind, making the edges of my dream fray. I grumbled in protest.

“Lizzie!” 

The shout is what did it. My dream began to fade to black. I groaned loudly and rolled over pulling the pillow over my head to stop any further interruption, trying to pick up the pieces of my dream.

“Suit yourself.” 

Two hands locked onto my ankles, causing my eyes to snap open.

“Don’t you do it,” I growled at Grayson, who stood at the end of my bed, holding onto me. He smirked. “Grayson, I swear to Merlin-”

I screeched as he pulled and lifted me over his head. The crook of my knees rested on top of his shoulders and I hung upside down as he shook me around.

“This is what you get for not answering me the first time!” 

“Spiculum,” I snarled. As soon as the word was off of my tongue, Gray dropped me. My head smacked onto the floor and made spots appear across my vision.

“Lizzie!” he screeched. His green eyes were wide as he looked down on me and shaking violently. His hair was moving with each shudder, looking like a load of sandy-coloured spider legs dancing on top of his head. With each passing second, his face was growing redder and redder. “Make it stop!” 

I sat up, rubbing the side of my head that had hit the ground and blinking the spots away. “Finite Incantatem,” I mumbled. He stopped shaking and relaxed almost immediately.

“What was that?” he demanded.

“You know the Stinging Jinx? Well, this is a Stabbing Jinx,” I snapped. “You didn’t have to drop me on my head, you know. I think I might have permanent damage.”

“Serves you right,” he retorted sharply. “Wait where’s your wand?” 

“Under my pillow,” I replied, standing up slowly to avoid any blinding pain from my head, “Like always.”

“You used wandless magic?”

“Erm- yeah?” I dropped my hand from my head and made a questioning face at him.

“You know that’s fairly difficult, right?”

“No, it’s not. It’s just like using a wand,” I told him, confused.

“Lizzie, hardly anyone can perform wandless magic.”

“Oh, stop being a drama queen and get me a pain potion. Believe it or not, but the head is not made to be the point of impact when being dropped.”

Grayson gave me a lingering, odd look as he obeyed me and left to retrieve a potion for the headache that was beginning to throbb in my temples.

“What a bloody cow,” I muttered, following him.

“Here,” he said, holding out a small phial filled with a lime green liquid, “Drink this.”

“You know, this could have been avoided if you just hadn’t dropped me. Maybe I’ll have a permanent indent in my head now, thanks to you.”

“You didn’t have to use a Stabbing Jinx on me,” he countered as I downed the liquid, which tasted not unlike fudge brownies.

“Well, you didn’t have to wake me up by lifting me over your shoulders like that,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “In fact, you didn’t have to wake me up in the first place. You know how grumpy I get when I am woken up.”

“Merlin, do I know,” he muttered. “But I woke you up to tell you that I made pancakes.”

My eyes widened with joy. “They wouldn’t happen to be-”

“Strawberry,” he nodded, pointing to a plate of strawberry pancakes behind him.

“Oh, yes!” I exclaimed. “This almost makes me want to forgive you for indenting my skull!”

“Shut up and eat,” he said rolling his eyes. “When you finish, we’re going gift shopping at that shopping market we always go to.”

“Okay,” I mumbled around a mouthful of pancakes.

\-----

“I’ll meet you here in an hour,” Gray announced once we arrived at the market.

“Sounds like a plan,” I replied, pulling my Slytherin scarf tighter to attempt to keep myself warm. The air around us was bitterly cold.

Gray gave a simple nod and began to walk away. I shivered and began to plod my way to the shop that I always bought Christmas gifts at: The Hidden Gem. It was a small shop that was tucked behind a larger one, so it was fairly unknown.

Its two front windows were lined with twinkling white lights and showed a plethora of items including a miniature Christmas tree that spun, a golden dress hanging off of an old mannequin, a powder pink dollhouse, and a larger-than-life teddy bear.

A bell tinkled as I pushed on the door and the smell of pumpkin pie filled my nose. I took a deep breath in and exhaled as a smile formed on my lips.

“Welcome to The Hidden Gem. Is there anything I can help you with?” The cashier asked. She was a woman who seemed to be in her mid-twenties with hair that fell all the way to her hips in gentle, black waves.

“No, I’m just looking for now. Thank you,” I replied with a faint smile. She nodded and went back to the book that she was reading.

I began to wander my way through the shop, pausing to inspect the occasional item.

I had to find something for Grayson, of course, but he was generally easy to shop for. He basically liked whatever was bought for him. I also wanted to get a gift for Grayson’s girlfriend, Charlotte, to welcome her to our family. I told myself that I would only get a gift for Draco if I found something that was absolutely perfect because I told him we weren’t exchanging gifts due to the feeling of inappropriateness. I still found the whole idea of Christmas in general preposterous with the war bubbling up around us, but Grayson brought me here.

I found Charlotte’s gift first. She was easy to shop for seeing as I had never met her and could really purchase anything for her. It was a watch with a thick, pastel pink band; rose gold clasps and lining; and a black and white marbled face. I figured that I didn’t want to get her anything that was too specific so as to not risk her not liking it. I picked up the watch figuring ‘Who doesn’t like a good watch?’.

Continuing around the shelves and tables, I found many odd things. There was an old teacup with a very loud floral print and a chip out of the handle, a strange looking musical instrument that looked like a violin that had been stretched out and cut into a rectangular shape, a very close up muggle painting of an eye in a circular picture frame, and an ancient looking nutcracker with chipped wood and faded paints.

As the hour drew to a close, I found a gift for Gray. It was a white mug with a black tyrannosaurus rex on it with the writing ‘tea-rex’ above it. I chuckled and supposed that Gray would find it amusing as well.

“Find everything alright?” the woman behind the counter asked as she added up the prices for the mug and the watch. 

“Sort of,” I frowned.

“Is there anything I can help you find?”

“Well, my boyfriend and I agreed not to exchange gifts this year and I told myself that I would only buy him a gift if I found something that I knew he would unquestionably love but I didn’t find anything like that,” I explained rather awkwardly.

“What’s he like?” she asked, wrapping my purchases into brown paper and placing them into a bag.

“Erm, he’s very stony on the outside but he’s actually quite the softy. He’s quite clever and cunning. He gets perfect marks on everything. He can be rude to those that disrespect him,” I told her, trying to describe Draco as best as I could without disclosing too much.

“Hmm,” she hummed. “I think I know the perfect thing. I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for a response, the woman sashayed away from me, her extremely long hair swaying with her gait.

She came back a few moments later carrying a black leather box in one hand. “This might not be right for him, but you agreed not to exchange gifts anyway, right?” she shrugged, opening the box. Inside was a bracelet made of a simple black cord resting on a bed of worn red velvet. The eye catcher, however, was the silver dragon winding around the cord, it’s small mouth open in a roar. “I think it’s like from ancient China or something.”

I studied the bracelet some more and thought, bringing my hand up to the necklace around my neck, the same one that Draco had given to me.

Draco and I decided not to exchange gifts.

Draco means dragon in Latin.

Would he actually wear this?

This would feel like a very cheesy and unoriginal gift.

Draco likes black and silver.

It’s a very beautiful dragon.

Draco likes simplistic things.

“I’ll take it."


	24. Chapter 24

Draco’s POV:

I looked at the silver numbers decorating the white door to confirm that this was indeed Grayson’s flat before raising my hand and knocking. I heard a hearty laugh inside before the lock on the door clicked and the door swung open.

Lizzie stood there in a simple red dress and smiled up at me. “Don’t you look dashing,” she said quietly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Don’t you look magnificent,” I replied with a soft smile, happy to finally see her again. I leaned forward and hugged her tightly, smiling into her hair.

“Come on in,” she hummed, waving me in. “Draco’s here, Gray.” 

“Welcome, Malfoy. We’re just-” Grayson began, standing just inside the door.

“Oh, just call him Draco,” Lizzie humphed to her brother, who was wearing black dress trousers and a navy button-through shirt. “And you call him Grayson,” she said to me with narrowed eyes.

“Well, Draco,” Grayson corrected himself with a pointed look to Liz. “We’re just waiting for my girlfriend to arrive and then we’ll begin dinner. Mind you, Lizzie made it, so you’ll have to watch for egg shells.”

“Spicul-” Lizzie began with a glare.

“I mean Lizzie is a brilliant cook,” Grayson corrected himself with a roll of his eyes. I looked to Liz with a raised eyebrow, but she didn’t notice.

“I can’t wait,” I replied with a polite smile. 

“I made roast beef and a load of smaller side dishes,” Lizzie explained while walking me towards the sofa. “Grayson wanted to order pizza, but I wouldn’t let his since this is the first time I’m meeting Charlotte. I’ve got to make a good first impression.”

A knock echoed around the flat. “Speak of the devil,” Grayson said, a smile creeping across his face. I watched as he walked towards the door, put his hand on the door knob, took a deep breath, and pulled it open. 

A young woman in a black dress stood there with a grin. The combination of her blonde hair, which was chopped close to her head, her high cheekbones, and her short stature made her resemble a pixie. “Happy Christmas, Gray,” she said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Happy Christmas,” he replied, a slight blush flowering on his cheeks. 

Grayson shut the door behind Charlotte as she came towards the sofa where Lizzie and I were sitting. We both stood up to greet her. Liz, who was taller that Charlotte, walked around me and hugged the woman. “Hi, Charlotte. I’m Gray’s sister, Lizzie,” she gushed.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,” Charlotte quipped with a bright smile. “Grayson talks so much about you.”

“He does, does he?” She looked at Grayson with raised eyebrows. “Anyway, this is my boyfriend, Draco,” Lizzie continued, turning to me with a smile that made my stomach bubble.

Charlotte cocked her head and shook the hand that I extended. “Draco like the constellation?”

 

“Exactly like the constellation,” I affirmed. “It’s a family tradition to name children after astronomical bodies.”

“Are you a wizard like Grayson?” she asked, nodding her head towards Lizzie’s brother, who was still a bit pink in the face.

“I am, indeed,” I nodded, clasping my hands behind my back.

“And you are too?” she questioned, turning to Liz.

“Actually, since I’m a girl, I’m a witch, but yes, I am,” Lizzie replied politely.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m still trying to catch on to all of your guys’ stuff. Just the other day, Gray tried to explain quidditch to me. The only thing I’ve retained is that it’s played on brooms, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” I said.

“Goodness,” she sighed. “I can’t imagine.”

“It’s actually quite enjoyable,” I stated, reminiscing on the days that I used to spend on my broom. “I used to play as a seeker in my younger years. I didn’t enjoy anything more.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to hurtle through the air 30 metres above the ground. Don’t you get frightened?”

“Once you’re on the broom, you hardly notice anything except for the quaffle or the snitch,” Grayson inputted. “Anyway, now that we’re all acquainted, why don’t we start dinner?”

Lizzie slipped her hand into mine. “Sounds brilliant,” she smiled.

We all walked into the kitchen area where a wooden table was set with delicious smelling, steaming food. I took a seat beside Lizzie and across from Grayson. “Smells fantastic,” I declared.

“Agreed,” Charlotte said.

As we all began to dig into the incredible food, the conversation steered back to what life was like in the wizarding world.

“So what’s Hogwarts like?” Charlotte asked between bites of mashed potatoes. “It seems like Grayson never stops talking about it.” She smiled at the man sitting beside her, who blushed once more.

“Right now or a few years ago?” Lizzie asked with pursed lips.

“What do you mean?”

“When Draco and I first arrived at Hogwarts in our first year, it was absolutely magnificent. It was every child’s dream come true. We were living in a castle where we learned how to use magic. The people in the paintings moved and talked, the candles floated in mid air, the stairs shifted constantly, the ghosts were friendly, and the suits of armor sang. The feasts were beyond terrific, the classes were rapturous and very interesting, the overall atmosphere made everyone feel at home. In fact, I used to consider it my second home. But more recently, a dark wizard has risen and has started a war, so Hogwarts has become a hell. The professors use torture and starvation as discipline for the smallest of mistakes, they teach us horrible things about muggles, and everyone is constantly terrified,” she explained slowly, with her eyebrows furrowed. I suddenly became very conscious the Dark Mark on my arm.

“Oh. Gray didn’t mention any of that,” Charlotte frowned. “Wait, does this war have anything to do with all of the people who keep disappearing?”

“It has everything to do with them. The dark wizard thinks that wizards are above all non-magical people, and wants to change the world so that we become superior. He wants to kill muggles, so he does. He kidnaps them, tortures them, and when they finally go crazy from it all, he kills them.”

“That’s horrible,” Charlotte sputtered. “That’s absolutely horrible. I can’t imagine that kind of world. Who’s winning? How are you going to stop him?”

 

“I have a friend who was born the subject of a prophecy. He was born to destroy the dark wizard. He has recently gone missing with two of his friends and no one knows why. Some wonder if he’s ran away from his fight and left us to the dark wizard, but I know that he would never do that. I think he’s out there preparing to come back and defeat You-Know-Who once and for all.”

“You-Know-Who?” the young woman questioned.

“We do not ever speak the dark wizard’s name, so we call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named,” Grayson explained.

“Why don’t you say his name?”

“There is rumor that it is cursed, so that if someone were to say his name, he would be able to find them instantly,” Liz muttered.

“This is all so horrible,” Charlotte gaped. “I’m speechless.”

“How do you think we feel?” I muttered under my breath. No one but Lizzie, who looked at me with a sad expression, heard.

“On a happier note,” Grayson noted, “I’ve been meaning to show you a spell that I think you’ll really like.”

“What’s that?” Charlotte asked curiously, seeming to have forgotten the depressing conversation we had been having only seconds before. 

“It’s called the Patronus Charm. It’s made from the caster’s happiest memories. It’s literally a physical form of happiness,” he explained. “Wizards use it to ward off dementors and as messengers.”

“Could I see it?” Charlotte begged.

Grayson pulled his wand from his pocket, pointed it to the air above the table, and closed his eyes. He thought for a moment before uttering the words “Expecto Patronum.”

A silver wisp slowly trailed from his wand and gathered into a ball of smoke which took form as a hummingbird, which began to dart around the room, almost too quickly to follow.

“Is that a hummingbird?” Charlotte asked, her mouth open wide in awe.

“Yeah,” Grayson replied, smiling vaguely at the small bird. “A patronus takes its form as the caster’s spirit animal.”

“So you’re spirit animal is a hummingbird?” 

“It sure is.” Grayson let the bird fade away until the silver smoke was gone from the air completely.

“That was amazing,” Charlotte stammered. “Can I see you guys cast it?” she asked Liz and I.

“Oh, I never learnt to cast it,” I replied, slightly startled.

“Really?” Liz asked, turning towards me.

“Really,” I affirmed.

“Remind me to teach you,” she stated, while lifting her wand and pointed into the air beside the table. “Expecto Patronum.” Hardly any of the smoke came from her wand. “Hmm, that’s odd. Let me try again.” She closed her eyes. “Expecto Patronum.” This time a bit more of the smoke trailed from the tip. She cracked one of her eyes open. “What in the name of Merlin?” she snapped, looking at the tip of her wand as if there was something clogging it. 

“Third time’s a charm?” Charlotte pointed out hopefully.

“Maybe,” she frowned. Liz squeezed her eyes shut and thought for a few seconds. “Expecto Patronum.” This time, there was a flash of silver light as a large animal leapt through the air. I heard Charlotte gasp as I tried to place the animal.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I deadpanned. “A Hippogriff? Really?”

I saw the corner of her lips lift, but she kept her eyes on the animal prancing through the air. It was so detailed that I could even see the folds in its feathers.

“What’s a Hippogriff?” Charlotte asked.

“It’s half-horse, half-eagle,” Lizzie spoke. “It is very, very proud and gets offended when it’s insulted. It’s really dangerous.” She dropped her wand and the creature disappeared abruptly.

“One almost killed me in fourth year,” I muttered bitterly, thinking back to the day that Hagrid had showed us the herd of Hippogriffs.

“Don’t be such a drama queen.” Lizzie rolled her eyes. “He hardly even scratched you. And besides you shouldn’t have called him a ‘great ugly brute’.”

“How was I to know it would try to bloody kill me?”

“Hagrid might have mentioned a few times not to be disrespectful.”

“I remember hearing about that whole ordeal,” Gray said. “Didn’t it disappear before it could be executed?”

“Executed?” Charlotte blanched.

“Draco was a very dramatic person when he was 14,” Lizzie inputted. “Still is.”

“My father found out it had almost killed me and went mad. He wanted the thing beheaded and wanted Hagrid’s job. But the Hippogriff disappeared before it could be executed.”

“Well, that’s good,” Charlotte nodded, taking a large bite of the roast beef. “I’m glad it didn’t have to die.”


	25. Chapter 25

Lizzie’s POV:

Once everyone had eaten enough food to burst, we all made our way into the living room and sat around the Christmas tree, which Gray had charmed to play Christmas music. The lights wrapped into its boughs were twinkling with a beautiful elegance. The smells of peppermint and pine wafted through the air and in the fireplace, the fire fizzes and spits, banishing the undead fingers of frost to the world outside. Charlotte laughed at a joke that Grayson had told, that managed to lift the corners of Draco’s mouth as well. 

In that moment, I felt as if I could actually be happy. I felt the Christmas holiday seeping into my heart and making me genuinely happy for the first time in ages. I turned my head to Draco, who was sitting beside me, and gave him a smile that I hope displayed the happiness I was feeling. He gave me a small smile in return and laced our fingers together.

“Lizzie?” Grayson’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “I asked if we should exchange gifts now?”

“Oh,” I lisped, startled. “Yeah, I guess so. I’ll be right back.” I stood and kissed Draco’s cheek before walking to my bedroom and picking up the gifts that were sitting on my bed. When I returned to the living room, I sat beside Draco and gave him a wry smile. “I know we said we weren’t exchanging gifts, but I had to get this.”

“Well that’s good, I was worried that I was going to give you a gift and you wouldn’t give me anything in return,” he smirked.

“You got me a gift?” 

“Of course I did,” he replied with a knowing look.

“Here you go, Liz,” Grayson said, handing me a box wrapped in silver paper.

“And here’s yours.” I handed him a box with white and yellow wrapping.

We distributed the gifts to each other until each of us had three boxes. 

“Charlotte, why don’t you begin?” I asked. 

She smiled and picked up the box that Grayson gave her. Inside was a beautiful diamond bracelet. “Oh, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “Thank you, Gray.” She leaned over and kissed him full on the lips, causing him to blush very deeply. 

“Mine next,” I butted in. When she had the gift open and the watch in her hand, I pulled out the joke that I had been waiting to use: “It’s about time Gray got himself a girl. Welcome to the family, Charlotte.”

“Thank you, Lizzie,” she smiled sweetly.

“Best for last, obviously,” Draco drawled, indicating that he wanted Charlotte to open his gift next. He had gotten her a ticket to the next Quidditch World Cup. “I figured that this would be a great way for you to get into the wizarding world.”

“This is brilliant! Oh thank you, Draco!” she remarked. Draco gave a polite nod in return.

“You next, Gray,” I said. 

He opened my gift first and laughed rather hard. “Merlin, this is great,” he snorted. “Thanks, Liz.”

“I thought you’d like it,” I smiled.

Inside a box wrapped with paper that had tiny Father Christmas’ on it, Charlotte had purchased a very fancy watch. “I love it, thank you,” he had said as he slipped it onto his wrist. Inside a flat box wrapped in simple blue paper, Draco gave him a ticket to the Quidditch World Cup as well. “Hey look!” he laughed. “Now we can go together!” All in all, Gray was quite happy with his gifts.

“You’re next, Draco,” Gray said.

Draco unwrapped the gift from Charlotte, inside which was a bottle of 40 year old whiskey. “I wasn’t aware that you were underaged, so I can get you the reciept,” she said, embarrassed.

“No need to worry. I’m considered an adult in the wizarding world so I will be more than happy to accept this. Thank you,” Draco hummed.

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome,” she replied, red in the cheeks.

“Mine next,” I said quickly, scooting towards him.

He opened the box with delicate fingers and smiled when he saw what was inside. “Aren’t you clever,” he smirked, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist. “Thank you.” He leaned forward and kissed me quickly.

“Best for last,” Grayson said, using the same phrase that Draco had only moments ago.

Inside the box with a red bow on top was tie pin with a golden snitch on it.

“Lizzie mentioned that you were a seeker, so I figured that this fit,” Gray explained.

“It’s wonderful,” Draco affirmed. “Best for last,” he said, turning towards me.

I unwrapped the gift from Charlotte first, which was a copy of A Tale of Two Cities. “I heard that you like to read and this is my favorite book. I figured that you’d might light it as well,” she lamented.

“I love to read. Thank you, Charlotte,” I smiled, placing the box to the side.

“Now mine,” Gray enunciated, pointing to the gift that was wrapped in silver. Inside was a copy of Alex and Eliza. “It’s about time you learn about Alexander Hamilton.”

“Gray, why would I ever need to know this?” I asked with an amused expression.

“Well, you’ll learn about Theodosia,” he shrugged.

“Speaking of, I haven’t seen her in ages. Where do you keep her?”

“I have a cage in my bedroom for her, but she mostly just roams around,” he explained.

“Oh,” I nodded, picking up the last gift. “Best for last.” I turned to Draco with a smile.

I unwrapped his gift slowly, pulling the paper from the little box with care. Before opening it, I glanced at Draco who was smiling slightly.

“Merlin…” I whispered. 

It was a ring. It was a band of rose gold with a diamond. It was a ring.

“Before you get too ahead of yourself, this isn’t an engagement ring. It’s a promise ring. I fully intend on spending my life with you, but with the war going on and seeing as we’re only 17, I felt as if proposing to you would be a bit premature,” he chuckled. “So this is me saying ‘I promise myself to you’.”

I pulled the ring from its box and slid it on my finger before throwing myself at Draco and kissing him.

“I love you so much,” I whispered.

“I love you too.”


	26. Chapter 26

Lizzie’s POV:

The rest of the hols and New Years passed with an unnerving rapidity and brought no occurrences worth being noted. Grayson went to work every morning at 8 am and came back at 7 pm with an exhausted expression and a half empty butterbeer. While he was busy counting knuts and galleons, I spent my time bedecking the bedroom that Gray had deemed mine and cleaning the other rooms without magic, and since Gray hardly ever did any sort of cleaning, I had loads of distractions. 

The most prominent thing I needed distracting from was obviously the war. The telly Gray had only had a few news stations, but the muggles seemed to be noticing something different. The weather men spoke of unforgiving rain that had been pelting the London area and the coldest and darkest winter in 28 years. The anchors reported all of the muggles who have gone missing, talking about how the police claimed that they had no leads. They claimed that the people had simply disappeared.

By the time that the beginning of term came around, Grayson’s flat was organized alphabetically and scourged to the point of shining. He claimed that it was cleaner than when he first moved in and I didn’t doubt it. I put so much effort into the cleaning and organizing that my elbows hurt when I bent them and I had blisters all over my hands. 

I had taken each plate, bowl, mug, pot, pan, piece of silverware, and every other kitchen utensil, scrubbed it clean until I could see my reflection clearer than I could see it in a regular mirror, put it through a round in the dishwasher, and arranged them in the cupboards so that the bowls were stacked on the top shelf, the mugs on the next below, the plates one below the mugs, and the silverware in a drawer below (forks on the left, then the knives, and then the spoons). The pots and pans were in a cupboard below the silverware drawer, stacked by size.

After I had finished that task, I moved to the refrigerator, which was mostly empty due to Grayson’s great lack of motivation to go grocery shopping. I removed the few items inside before erasing any sign of grease or food residue with a scrubbing sponge. Once I was satisfied, I sorted through the items that had been in the fridge and threw out the outdated items before organizing them inside by size and then alphabetically.

I did things like this throughout each room in Gray’s flat, even thoroughly cleaning out his bedroom, which rendered him speechless when he had come back from work. The bookshelf was organized alphabetically by author, his wardrobe was sorted by color, his bed was made neatly (with recently washed sheets), the floor had been mopped and vacuumed twice, the shelves had been dusted and arranged tidily, and I had scraped all of the nastiness from his window.

When I had made my way through each room, I started from the beginning again, cleaning the kitchen, lounge, bathroom, and bedrooms from the start.

“You know, Liz,” Gray had said the day that I had finished cleaning the loo for the second time, “cleaning like this isn’t very reassuring. Not that I’m complaining because I’ve haven’t been able to see the floor in my bedroom in ages, but are you okay?”

“What?” I asked, surprised. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I mean, you are obsessively cleaning even though I haven’t asked you to,” he replied with a raised eyebrow, holding his arms out, palm up.

“I want to clean, Gray, you’re flat is absolutely filthy,” I responded. “I’m not sure how you live in this mess.”

“I just think that this whole thing is getting to you,” he sighed, sitting down beside me on the sofa.

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“The war. I think you’re trying to distract yourself from it by cleaning manically.”

“Are you calling me mad?”

He thought for a moment before speaking again. “Not directly.”

“I’m not mad.”

\-----

“I’m going to miss you, Gray,” I said quietly. “Be good to Charlotte and write me as often as you can.”

The air around us on Platform 9 ¾ was impregnated with so much smoke that I thought I might suffocate from the weight of it. This mixed with the murmurs from other families around us made me want to scream. 

“I’ll miss you too,” my brother replied, his sandy hair blowing in the slight breeze the floated through the platform. “And I promise to write you loads. Maybe I could send you a parcel with some sweets since you can’t go to Hogsmeade and buy them yourself.”

“I’d love that,” I smiled, pulling him into an embrace. His hair smelled of honey. So strongly, in fact, that it made me wonder if he used it as shampoo.

“Please behave,” Gray muttered into my hair, holding me tightly to his chest. “Please do what they tell you and lay low.” 

“That’s a very cowardly thing to do,” I replied with a frown.

“It might be,” he whispered. “But you’ll stay alive. And that’s all that matters.”

“Grayson, have you been reading my letters?” I pulled back from the hug and looked at him seriously.

“I have,” he said, gravely.

My eyebrows furrowed as I stiffened my body and let go of him, suddenly becoming tense. “So you know what they’re doing to kids. They’re forcing students to use the Cruciatus on twelve year olds who have done nothing more than have robe sleeves that were a quarter inch too long. And on the last day of term before we all came home for the hols, they locked a fifth year on the astronomy because his Dark Arts essay was a sentence too long for their taste. Someone has to stop that.”

“That’s Harry Potter’s job,” he said through pursed lips.

“And where is he now?” I exclaimed just a tad bit too loud. Some of the families closest to us turned and stared with wide eyes. “Harry Potter has been missing for months. No one even knows if he’s alive anymore. It hurts me to say this, but we can’t count on him, so someone needs to fight back, and what better than an inside job?”

 

“Elizabeth Alexandra May,” Grayson snapped harshly. “You will not do anything of the sort. You will keep your head down and study hard so you can get a good grade on your N.E.W.T.S.”

“I will not give up on those kids. Just try to stop me,” I seethed, walking away from him and ignoring all that he was saying in my wake.

I stomped my way onto the train and walked along the corridor to see if Draco was in any of the compartments. When I discovered that he wasn’t, I chose one out of the way and drew the blinds that led to the corridor before curling myself into a ball in the corner with my forehead on the window.

‘What a stubborn little… Hufflepuff.’ I thought to myself angrily.

How could he know about the torture of children who didn’t deserve it and not want to do anything to help them? Aren’t Hufflepuffs supposed to be loyal and kind and empathetic?

While brooding about my row with Gray and waiting for Draco, I found myself dozing off.

\-----

“Hey, love,” a soothing voice hummed beside me, shaking my knee slightly. I groaned and wrapped my arms around myself. “Come on, we’re almost to the castle. You should put your robes on.”

“Piss off,” I grumbled, pulling my arms up to my chest. “I’m sleeping.”

“I see that, but we’ve almost arrived at Hogwarts,” he repeated with a chuckle.

“I slept that long?” I asked hoarsely, opening my eyes slowly, to see the dimly lit compartment where Draco sat beside me, a hand on my shoulder and already dressed in his robes.

He nodded. “I didn’t want to wake you. It looked like you could use a nice nap.”

“I missed you,” I whispered, sitting up and embracing him, burying my face into his neck. I took a deep breath, inhaling his peppermint scent that I had come to so love.

“I missed you too,” he chuckled, “but you’ve got to get your robes on before we arrive.” He retrieved my robes and set them on the seat beside me. “Up you go.” He slipped his hands under my arms and gently lifted me up.

With a load of griping and cursing, I slipped into my robes and lay back down on the seat, my head resting in Draco’s lap and my knees pulled up towards my chest. His lips curved upwards a bit as he looked down at me and brushed his fingers through my hair.

The next thing I knew, the train was grinding to a stop and Draco was stroking my face his cool fingers and whispering to me. “We’re here, Liz. It’s time to go in.”

“Do we have to go in?” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. “What if we just stay in here? They’ll never know.”

“I’m afraid we do, love. This is what you get for dating the Headmaster’s godson,” he replied.


	27. Chapter 27

Draco’s POV:

Liz and I walked into the Great Hall trembling hand in trembling hand alongside with the rest of the students and took a seat at the furthest end of the Slytherin table without a word to each other or anyone else. We sat silently until Snape stood from his chair at the Head Table and the minimal chattering that had been filling the air instantly halted. However, instead of speaking, Snape lifted a hand into the air and the tables filled with the half-heartedly made food.

Lizzie sighed with pursed lips and the restrained whispers began to slowly pick up again as students picked their way through what was displayed in front of them to find the edible foods.

I picked up a roll of bread that was rather stale and moldy and began to slice off the moldy bits. “What tired you out so thoroughly that you slept the entire ride to Hogwarts?” 

“Oh, erm, I spent a lot of the break cleaning Gray’s flat. It was obscenely filthy and was bothering me. And, well, we were on the platform and had a row,” she maundered, pushing a piece of dry meat around her plate.

I frowned and looked up at her, noticing the way she was fingering the compass necklace I had gotten her for Christmas ages ago like she did when she was stressed. “What did you argue about?” I asked.

“Not now,” she mussitated, glowering at the Great Table where Amycus and Alecto Carrow were laughing and clinking their silver goblets of wine together, sloshing the russet colored liquid on their laps, frowning at the mess they had made, and then guffawing and spilling more wine. “Anyway, how was your break?”

“It was alright,” I muttered, trying not to think about all of those harrowing nights I had spent holed up inside of my shadowy bedroom, utterly sleepless because of the horror and noise of Bellatrix’s cackles as she tortured the prisoners.

“Well, that’s better than bad,” she replied, scowling at the lumpy pea soup, having given up on the meat.

“Touche, mademoiselle.”

Suddenly, all of the quiet mutterings that had been hovering in the air ceased almost immediately, and I noticed that Snape had stood up again, holding a hand up with a stony face. I marvelled at the power that he held over this room, but also cautious of it.

“This term,” he began, his lip curling in disgust as he looked around at the students who were sneering at him, “will not be nearly the same as the last. The lenience that the professors have been providing you has been… discontinued. Any misbehavior will be treated with the utmost punivity. That will be all.”

All students remained sitting, some now staring confusedly at the Headmaster who looked down his hooked nose at us.

“Go,” he snapped rigidly. I frowned at his acidic tone but stood alongside Lizzie, who was also frowning and who looped her arm through mine as we shuffled through the chilled corridors of Hogwarts to the Slytherin common room following the other students of our house, our footsteps echoing along with the theirs on the stone walls. No one spoke on our sluggish trek except for the murmurs of the ruffling robes and our footsteps.

“Draco?” Lizzie spoke quietly once we reached our common room where students began to file into the dormitories, wanting the day to be over as soon as possible. She leaned her head on my shoulder and sighed, her eyelashes fluttering, sleep tugging at her.

“Hmm?” I hummed in reply, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I slipped my arm around her waist, rubbing my thumb soothingly across the cloth of her robes.

“Could we sleep in your bed tonight? Together?” She turned her head to look up at me, her head still resting on my shoulder. Her tempestuous eyes that were so similar to mine and yet so different, seemed to be staring right into me.

“Of course,” I responded, kissing her forehead.

That night, we slept almost peacefully, limbs entangled and bodies pressed up against each other.

\-----

Dear Liz,

I’m really sorry for our row at King’s Cross, but you really do need to lay low. If You-Know-Who gets word of your mini-rebellion, he won’t hesitate to punish you. He might even kill you, and I can’t lose you. I already lost mum, and that hurt enough. If I were to lose you as well, I might not be able to survive that much grief, Liz. Please, stay safe. I’m begging you.

Love,  
Gray

\-----

Dear Grayson,

There is no way in ruddy hell that I am going to lay low and just let these tossers have their way around my school. These kids have done nothing to deserve their torturous rule and I am going to stop them if it’s the last thing I do. 

Think of how you felt when you first found out you were a wizard and the first time you walked into the Great Hall and the first time you saw someone perform a spell in front of you. You were speechless, right? You were ecstatic to be a part of such a fascinating world that you only just found out existed.

Now think about the muggle borns that started their magical journey this year. Who got their Hogwarts letter and were told about our world. Who were just as ecstatic as we were to join our world, only to come to Hogwarts and find out that the utopia they had been imagining was really a blood curdling purgatory where they experience the Cruciatus curse or are locked into a dark room with creatures that they know nothing of or are starved for days on end for not writing a long enough essay. 

All they know of the wizarding world is war and the Carrows. They’ve never been to Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes or Zonko’s and bought any one of their absurdly hilarious jokes. They’ve never seen a game of quidditch where people just like them somehow fly on brooms. They’ve never been to a proper Halloween or Christmas feast at Hogwarts where pumpkins float above their heads or heard the singing suits of armor or Hagrid’s tremendous Christmas trees bedecked with fairies or the garlands of holly and tinsel that wrap around the staircases. This breaks my heart, Gray, and I can’t let them go through this. I want them to see all of the wonders of our world, and if Harry isn’t going to be here to do anything, someone is going to have to do something.

Try to stop me,  
Lizzie

P.S. - Draco’s on the same page as I am. Two against one.

\-----

“Hey,” Lizzie whispered several weeks after the beginning of term, sitting down beside me on my bed, having returned from her last class, and laying her head in my lap.

I closed my Arithmancy book and brushed her hair out of her face. “Hey, love. How’re you?”

“Rather tired, and you?” she replied, placing a hand on my thigh and shifting slightly.

“Professor Sweeney take it hard on you?” 

She sighed tiredly. “No, he was really laid back today. Didn’t even mind that I hadn’t finished the essay he assigned. I’m just really worn out.”

I hummed in response.

“You know, we haven’t done anything bad for a while.” She rolled over so she was looking at me.

“What do you mean?”

“We haven’t done anything… rebellious,” she expounded, chewing on her lip.

I raised my eyebrows. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Not exactly,” she frowned. “Wait, I heard the Carrows talking about a second year they had chained in the dungeons. I’m not sure why, but with the Carrows, it’s not a defendable reason.”

“And you’re suggesting that we free them?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” I spoke, standing up. “Do you know where specifically they are?”

“Erm- I didn’t expect you to want to go now,” she said, sitting up.

“Well, why wouldn’t we? Knowing the Carrows, they probably haven’t fed the kid.”

“That’s true,” she frowned. “Okay, I guess now is the time.” She stood up beside me and took her outer robe and tie off, leaving her in only her button-through shirt, her skirt, and her shoes. I raised an eyebrow, but did the same, not wanting the excess clothing to weigh me down or constrict my movement should we need to make a run for it.

We casually walked out of the common room and turned right, heading to the dungeons, a place that, pre-Carrow, used to be a popular place for students to snog. However, when the Carrows arrived, they began to use it as an actual dungeon.

Along the journey, we made no noise, trying not to draw any attention to ourselves should anyone be in the vicinity, but no one came darting around any of the corners, their wands raised and their lips already forming a curse. 

When we arrived at the entrance to the damp torture chamber, a stone archway, we peered inside, unable to see anything due to the drastic lack of light. The poor kid had been chained in the dark for who knows how long, likely starved and tortured.

“Homenum Revelio,” Liz muttered, her wand pointed through the arch and we watched as a shape of a small person huddled in a corner was revealed to us, disappearing as the spell wore off. “Just the kid. Thank Merlin.”

I lit my wand with the silvery light of a lumos that did little to light our way and creeped through the doorway, finding four barred doors in a dim corridor. “Through here,” I whispered, pointing my wand at the door at our immediate left. I tried just pulling at it, doubtful that the professors would leave it unlocked, but, to my surprise, the hinges screeched as the door opened. “That’s not right.” I frowned. “Why would they leave it unlocked?”

“Since the kid is chained and unable to escape himself, maybe they didn’t bother locking it,” Liz whispered by my side.

“Hello?” I called through the door into a room that smelled absolutely ghastly. “Is anyone there?”

We heard the metallic clanking of chains rattling and the dull face of a little boy came into view. His cheeks were streaked with dirt and one side of his face was red and imprinted with the pattern of a stone as if he had been lying down on one. He had a rather nasty cut beneath one eye that looked a few days old and completely untreated. “You’re not the Carrows,” he rasped, his brown eyes staring at us with apprehension and hope.

“No, we’re not,” Lizzie replied, hurrying forward to the boy. “My name is Lizzie and this is Draco. We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. We’ve come to set you free. What’s your name?”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows but as Lizzie continued with the explanation of our presence, his eyes widened and looked as if they were watering like he was about to cry. “Sammy,” he whispered.

“Well, Sammy,” Liz smiled at him, placing a hand on his arm, “We’re going to get these chains off of you, and then we’ll take you up to Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing to get the cut you have looked at. Is that alright?”

“But when the Carrows find out that I’ve escaped they’ll punish me even worse than they have,” he breathed, recoiling back from Lizzie, his chains jingling as he stepped back and pulled his arms up to his chest. “I-I can’t have that. This is hard enough as it is.”

“What if I had a safe place for you to hide out? Somewhere that the Carrows could never touch you again? I even have a friend that would stay there with you and protect you. Would you like to go there?”

“Lizzie,” I began, ready to step in. I knew she didn’t have a place like this and didn’t want her making empty promises to this twelve year old.

She snapped her head in my direction and gave me a dirty look. 

“Is that true? I could get away from them?” Sammy asked, relaxing slightly and leaning towards Liz as if he were being physically summoned to this place she spoke of.

“I promise,” she nodded.


	28. Chapter 28

Lizzie’s POV:

I promised Sammy that I would get him out of this dungeon and out of the Carrows reach permanently, and I was going to do it if it cost me an arm and a leg. This boy, with his ratty, black hair and brown eyes, was going to escape this rank smelling dungeon.

“Okay, Sammy,” I spoke quietly, “me and Draco are going to get these chains off now, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied, holding his hands for me to work with.

“Do you know where your wand is, Sammy?” Draco asked quietly.

“There’s a chest in that far corner over there. They locked it up in there as soon as we got here.” He pointed a finger at the corner opposite to the one where he was chained where a wooden trunk rested. 

Draco stood and went to the trunk, which he discovered was locked, as I tried Alohomora to unlock his chains. They remained shackled to him, unperturbed by my spell.

“They used Colloportus to lock it,” Sammy offered.

“Only a Colloportus?” Draco questioned, looking over his shoulder skeptically at Sammy.

“Yes,” the boy whispered in reply, looking down at me with hopeful eyes. I tried Relashio with no luck, much to my chagrin.

“Why did they bring you down here?” Draco asked slowly, returning from the corner with the boys wand in hand, having freed it from the chest with a simple Alohomora.

“I dropped an apple on the ground at dinner.” 

Draco came and kneeled beside me on the ground in front of Sammy, casting a lumos with it and placing it in the boys hand. He cancelled his own lumos and took up Sammy’s other hand.

“I tried Alohomora and Relashio already,” I told him. “And how long ago was that, Sammy?”

“I’m not sure,” he frowned. “It’s hard to tell time down here. What day is it?”

“Libertas,” Draco muttered, causing the chains to rattle a bit, but they remained clamped around the boys wrists. “It’s February sixth.”

“Oh,” Sammy scowled. “I’ve been down here for about a week then.”

I gaped at him, pausing in my attempts to free him. “A week?” Have they given you food or water.”

“They gave me an apple the other day,” he spoke. “I think it was the same one I dropped.”

“The same one you-” I huffed in frustration, seeing Draco still casting spells on the chains in the corner of my eye. “That’s bloody ridiculous. It must have been rotten!”

“It was,” he whispered. “But I ate it all.”

“And what about water? Humans can hardly survive without water.”

“There’s a leak in the ceiling that drips water into a puddle over there.” He tilted his head to indicate the location of the puddle. “I drank that.”

“This is all bleeding mental. When I get my hands on those insufferable arseholes-” I hissed under my breath.

“Lizzie,” Draco snapped, cutting me off from cursing any further in front of this little boy. I huffed again and went back to racking my brain for any spells that might free Sammy. “What house are you in?”

“I’m a Ravenclaw,” he stated.

“We’re Slytherins,” I told him and casted an Auxilium with no results.

“You know, people usually think Slytherins are evil and all that, but I don’t understand it. You two are here freeing me and you don’t get any personal gain from it. That’s rather kind if you ask me,” Sammy confessed.

“Well, thank you, Sammy,” I smiled up at him.

“I can’t find any spells that will work. They must have charmed them with some strong spells,” Draco mumbled, looking at me with his light brows furrowed.

“You know what?” I said, standing and brushing my knees off.

“You’re not going to leave me here, are you?” Sammy asked with panic.

I rested a hand on his shoulder. “No. We’ll get you out of here somehow. That’s a promise.” He beamed up at m and began to tear up as if this were the best thing anyone had said to him. “Draco, could you silence the room?” 

“Er- yeah,” he said, confused, but he silenced the room as I walked around the back of Sammy.

“Alright, Sammy. I want you stay facing Draco and I want you to wrap your arms over your head.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, turning his head over his shoulder and looking at me with worried eyes.

“If we can’t get the chains off of you, we might just have to take them with us and figure a way to get them off later,” I pondered, hoping that this plan would work and not get us caught. Draco realized what I was going to do and widened his eyes. He quickly cast a few more silencing charms to make sure no one were to hear and walked towards the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Okay, Sammy, cover your head.” The boy obliged and wrapped his arms over his head, covering a good majority of it. “This might be a bit loud but Draco’s silenced the room.”

“I’ll be right here,” Draco told him, leaning down so his face was closer to Sammy’s.

“Okay,” Sammy croaked.

I bent over and shifted Sammy’s chains so they were side by side and pointed my wand at them, my back towards Sammy. “Here we go. Bombarda.” The length of chain in front of me exploded, along with the stone below it, throwing debris everywhere. A rather large piece of stone flew through the air and grazed my chin. Another hit my shin straight on, causing a reverberation of pain to shoot up my leg. I hissed but realized that the spance of chains in front of me had been obliterated, leaving Sammy with two tails trailing his wrists that were about three feet long. “Alright, it worked,” I coughed, having inhaled some stone dust that was floating through the air. 

“We need to leave now in case anyone heard that,” Draco said, checking Sammy for any injuries from the explosion. Save for the cut he had prior, he seemed untouched. Same for Draco, who frowned at me when he saw the cut on my chin and the cut on my shin.

“Sammy, you’re going to have to pull the chains into your robes and hold them as still as possible so no one sees or hears them while we make our way towards the hiding spot,” I told the boy, placing my hands on both of his shoulders and leaning down to look him in the eyes.

“Okay,” he replied, pulling the chains into his sleeves with a determined expression as we hurried out of the prison.

“Where are we going, Lizzie?” Draco asked sternly.

“The Room of Requirement,” I replied as if I said something like this everyday. Draco puffed and Sammy gasped.

“The Room of Requirement?” he asked in awe as we jogged towards the staircase that would take us all the way up to the seventh floor. “It really exists? I thought that was just a myth!”

“Believe me, it really exists,” Draco growled, not all that happy with the idea of returning to the room where we had spent a majority of our time last year.

We hurried up the stairs with minimally talking after that and with only a little jingling of Sammy’s chains. All of the students that we passed didn’t give us more than a second look, which made me hopeful.

When we approached the seventh floor corridor where the Room of Requirement was hidden, Draco and Sammy stopped as I paced in front of the wall.

We need a place for Sammy to hide.  
We need a place for Sammy to hide.  
We need a place for Sammy to hide.

Without even looking at the wall, I knew that the door was appearing from Sammy’s gasp. And sure enough, the lines of iron were racing across the wall, forming an enormous door that Draco pushed open for the three of us to enter.

The room that appeared looked just like the Room of Hidden Things without all of the hidden things and much smaller. There were two columns that stretched from floor to ceiling and, between them, was strung a hammock. To our left, was a wooden door that appeared to lead to a toilet, complete with a bathtub and toiletries. To our right was a smaller door that opened up to a long tunnel.

“I’d bet 20 galleons that this leads to the kitchens,” I said, peering into the tunnel and breathing in the faint smell of food.

“Can people get into here through there?” Sammy asked nervously.

“The Room of Requirement is extremely intelligent. It knows just what one needs and it knows that you need to hide from the Carrows. So I’ll bet you that the Room won’t allow the Carrows or anyone that would spy for them in,” I explained, looking at Sammy, who was still looking down the tunnel and nervously playing with his hands.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” I nodded. “Now, I’m going to get that friend that I told you about. Would it be alright if Draco stayed here with you?” Sammy nodded in reply and set himself down in the hammock. “After I bring my friend, I’ll go get some food from the kitchens.”

Draco sat down on the floor and leaned his back against one of the columns. “I’ll try to think of any spells that might get these chains off of him,” he drawled, fiddling with his wand.

“Perfect. I’ll be back in a bit,” I smiled, stepping out of the Room and watching the door fade before hurrying off towards the Gryffindor Tower, my feet padding against the floor. Now that the night was getting close to curfew, less students were out in the halls. I only passed by six people on the entire trip.

“Hello, again,” the Fat Lady grumbled upon seeing me.

“You still remember me?” I panted, a bit out of breath from hurrying here.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever forget you. You practically threatened me twice just to speak with someone.” She frowned and crossed her arms, sticking her nose into the air.

“I wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t important, as it is now. Could I please speak to Neville Longbottom?” I begged, trying to be kind so I could get on her good side.

She crinkled her nose at my request. “And why would I help you of all people? A Slytherin and a Dea-”

“Say it and I will not hesitate to curse you off your hinges and burn your painting in a cauldron of Angels Trumpet Draught. I am not one you want to cross because my wrath is one that could rival You-Know-Who himself. So I suggest you take that smart mouth of yours and go tell Neville Longbottom that Lizzie Samuels would like to speak to him. Do I make myself clear?” I said darkly, my lip curling as I walked closer to her portrait menacingly.

Her face paled and uncrossed her arms, looking rather terrified at my threat.

“I said do I make myself clear?” I punctuated sharply, drawing my wand.

“Crystal,” she muttered before hurrying out of her frame. I smirked and placed my wand back into my pocket.

After a few moments, the Fat Lady’s portrait swung open and Neville came striding out.

“I don’t know what you said, but it must have worked because the Fat Lady is hiding in a portrait with a load of knights in it. She’s refusing to come back out until you’ve left,” Neville grinned. “Good to see you again, Lizzie.”

“Same to you,” I replied. “And she was refusing to let me talk to you, so I had to threaten her a bit.” I shrugged and noticed all of the injuries that he was sporting. “Merlin, what happened to you?”

He reached up and touched the cut on his upper lip. “I could ask you the same.”

“That’s why I’m here actually,” I told him. “Walk with me?”

“Sure,” he smiled. We began to walk in the direction of the Room of Requirement.

“Okay, it’s not exactly something everyone should be hearing, so do you mind if I cast a silencing charm around us?”

“Be my guest.”

Once the spell was in place, I began to explain. “I overheard the Carrows today talking about a second year that they had chained in the dungeons for dropping an apple on the ground during dinner, so Draco and I decided to free him. We couldn’t get the chains off of him, so I cast a Bombarda to sever them. That’s how I got these cuts. Some stone flew and hit me. Anyway, the kid brought up a good point. He said that when the Carrows found out that he had escaped, they’d find him again and torture him even worse. So I suggested that he hide in the Room of Requirement and I thought you might know some other people that would like to hide out there with him,” I finished, glancing at the bruise under his eye.

“That’s brilliant!” he exclaimed, stopping and widening his eyes. “Honestly, why hadn’t I thought of that! You’re brilliant, Lizzie! I know loads of people who could benefit from a hiding place.”

“You think so?”

“I don’t think so. I know so. Seriously, Liz, this is brilliant.” He grinned at me and placed a hand on my shoulder. I glanced down at it in surprise. “I’ll go get Gin and some of the other Gryffindor’s who could use a hiding spot. Thank you so much.” 

“Yeah,” I replied, still shocked. Still grinning, he took off back towards the Gryffindor common room. I frowned.

Neville returned rather quickly with his shrunken school trunk and several other students also with shrunken trunks including Ginny and Seamus. “Lead the way, Lizzie.”

We made our way to the Room of Requirement with quiet footsteps, and seeing as it was now past curfew, passed no students. Once we reached the Room, I paced and asked for the room that Sammy was hiding in. The door appeared quickly and I heaved it open, motioning for the Gryffindor’s to hurry in.

When the door was firmly shut, I walked towards Draco and Sammy, who sat on the floor smiling at me and holding a platter of fresh grapes, cups of pumpkin juice, and bowls of steaming soup.


	29. Chapter 29

Draco’s POV:

“Hi, Lizzie! Look at what Draco and I found!” Sammy exclaimed, holding out the grapes, his cheeks stuffed with them.

“I see you brought back company,” I spoke, noting the kids who had come back with Lizzie. All of whom were Gryffindors much to my chagrin.

“Erm- yeah. Everyone, this is Sammy. He’s a second year Ravenclaw that Draco and I rescued from the dungeons where the Carrows had him chained up for dropping an apple at dinner. Sammy, this is Neville Longbottom,” Lizzie explained, gesturing towards the short, blonde Gryffindor next to her, who waved at little Sammy. “He’s the friend that I was telling you about. He and a few of his other friends have come to stay here with you. This is Ginny Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, and I’m afraid that I don’t know anyone else’s name.” She frowned at the group behind her, guilty that she didn’t know their names. 

“Hi, Sammy,” said a girl who stepped forward. She had dark skin and golden hair so frizzy that it rivaled Granger’s. She was in my Dark Arts class. “I’m Lavender Brown.”

A girl with long black hair that was pulled back into a plait who had stood next to Lavender stepped forward as well. I remembered that she was the one who had a twin in Ravenclaw. “I’m Parvati Patil.”

“Seamus Finnigan, here,” Finnigan quipped raising a hand in greeting. 

A boy with mousy brown hair grinned with large teeth and waved towards the boy who sat beside me. “Hiya, Sammy! I’m Colin Creevey,” he introduced himself with glee.

A boy who looked almost exactly like Creevey but was significantly smaller stepped forward and shyly introduced himself as Dennis Creevey, Colin’s little brother.

“Natalie McDonald, pleasure to meet you, Sammy,” said a girl with curly blonde hair.

“In case you hadn’t known, I’m Lizzie Samuels and this is Draco Malfoy,” Lizzie said rather unnecessarily.

As if reading my mind, Longbottom spoke up. “Oh, come on Liz, there’s no need to introduce you two. Everyone knows you guys.”

“As for why, well that’s a touchy subject,” Weasley began, not all that happy to see me and Lizzie. Longbottom turned his head and glared at her, stopping her from continuing.

Lizzie pursed her lips and looked to the ground, knowing that Weasley was implying that everyone knew us due to our affiliation to Voldemort and our murder of the previous headmaster.

“Alright everyone,” I spoke loudly. “Let’s clear this up now. Yes, Lizzie and I were dragged into some dark matters because of our parents, but let me make this one-hundred percent clear: we did not do anything by choice. You-Know-Who kidnapped Lizzie’s mum and told her that is she ever wanted to see her again, we had to kill Dumbledore. So we tried, but in the end, we were not the cause of the Headmaster’s death. Another Death Eater stepped in after we refused to do anything that night and killed Dumbledore. But Lizzie’s mum died, and because of this, we both swore on our graves that we would do anything in our power to bring the monster down. So if you would like to hold our past against us, tell me your story and I’ll hold it against you as well, because I can guarantee that your lives are not any purer than mine,” I sneered, staring straight at Weasley.

“We want You-Know-Who dead just as much as you do, if not more. So, yes, please let our past go and fight alongside us,” Lizzie said quietly, looking at them with pleading eyes.

“No one holds that against you guys,” Longbottom spoke. “Like you said, Malfoy, we have all done things we regret.”

“Thank you, Neville,” Lizzie smiled softly. “But it’s important that You-Know-Who doesn’t find out about our insubordination. Draco and I are still acting as loyalists and are planning on sharing any information that might help us win this war.”

“Your secret is safe with us, right guys?” Finnigan cajoled, followed with a chorus of ‘yes’s, some of which were hesitant, but said anyway.

“Thank you, guys,” Lizzie smiled before turning to me. “Two things: one, where did you get that food? Two, where did all those hammocks come from?” She pointed at the rest of the room behind us with a frown.

“That door doesn’t lead to the kitchens, and I’m not sure. When Sammy and I got back from getting the food, they were just there. I figure the Room knew that you were bringing more people, so it created more places to sleep. There’s also more showers and toilets. It’s fit for half of Hogwarts to stay in here,” I replied coolly, popping a grape into my mouth.

“Where does it lead then?” Longbottom asked curiously, butting his way into our conversation. I noticed that his Gryffindor pals were listening as well. 

“Hogsmeade,” I replied.

“Hogsmeade?” Weasley repeated, looking confused.

“That is indeed what I said,” I said shortly.

“Where exactly in Hogsmeade?” Lizzie asked.

“The Hogshead. Turns out the guy who owns it is Dumbledore’s brother. He gave me and Sammy here a bit of food after I explained our situation. I don’t think he realized I was a Malfoy though,” I frowned, not meaning to say that last part out loud.

“Bloody hell, Dumbledore’s brother?” Finnigan gaped. “I didn’t know he had a ruddy brother.”

“You guys didn’t know that?” Patil questioned, looking around at the group she had arrived with, all of whom were staring at me with expressions of shock or confusion.

“You did?” Longbottom countered, just as surprised as everyone else.

“Well, yeah. His name is Aberforth. He looks quite like Dumbledore. That is Albus Dumbledore, I mean,” she said.

“How did you bloody know that?” Finnigan gawked.

“Padma talks about this book she read once quite a bit. Do none of you honestly know about what happened?” she asked, looking genuinely confused that no one but her knew about this.

“I guess not,” Longbottom replied.

“Well I’ll tell you the story later. We should get settled down, don’t you think?” Patil offered, gesturing towards the other hammocks. 

As the Gryffindors dispersed, Lizzie walked forward and sat on the floor beside me, still frowning. “Dumbledore had a brother?” she whispered, trying to keep her horrified tone from reaching Sammy’s ears, who sat beside us happily sipping at the soup that Aberforth had shared with us.

“Yeah. He didn’t seem to bothered by the fact that Albus had died though. I don’t think they were close,” I muttered.

“He just gave you food?” 

“When we stepped through the other side of the tunnel, he was sitting there, eating his own dinner at his dining table. We scared him a bit, but once I got him to put his wand down, we sat down and I explained that we came from Hogwarts and were hiding in the Room of Requirement from the Carrows because of what they did to Sammy and that the Room had provided the passage for us. He gave us some of his food and said that we were welcome to return for more if we needed any. I’m not sure he anticipated there being so many of us though.”

“I’m sure more will be joining us too. The Carrows have made lots of enemies here,” Lizzie said, watching the Gryffindors unshrink their trunks and slide them under their hammocks. “I just hope this doesn’t get out of hand.”

“Me too,” I agreed, watching as Sammy grinned at me with a pumpkin juice mustache. I couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, I had taken a liking to this little boy and I wanted to protect him as if her were my little brother.

“We can’t stay here, you know,” Lizzie murmured.

“I know.”

“If we go missing on the same night that half of Gryffindor house, most of whom have been fighting against the Carrows, someone might get suspicious.”

“I know.” 

And Merlin did I know. I wanted nothing more than to disappear with Lizzie into a mundane village far away from here where Voldemort couldn’t reach us and we didn’t have to live in constant fear. But not only would Voldemort find us no matter where we were, but because of Sammy, I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay and fight with every ounce of my being so that kids like Sammy don’t have to suffer at the hands of the Carrows or Voldemort ever again.


	30. Chapter 30

Lizzie’s POV:

After Draco and I had left our little Sammy in the trustworthy hands of the Gryffindors that night, the population inside the Room began to grow and our class sizes began to decline. More and more students, Slytherins and Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs alike, who had fallen victim to the Carrows were hiding away with Neville and Ginny. All were getting along due to their common despise for the brother and sister who had their feet on the castle’s throat.

Aberforth had set up a system to send food with someone each day. He mostly sent food that didn’t perish fast like most fruit and vegetables did. He sent potatoes that someone could boil, dried meats that lasted for ages and filled one up rather quickly, pasta and beans that could also be boiled, and anything that he could spare. We were all eternally grateful for the man, sending many thanks to him with the person who retrieved the food. We built up our store of it and rationed it out so as to last us for as long as needed.

There were times that Aberforth also came through the tunnel after the Hogshead had closed for the day and played Exploding Snap or chess with someone, sometimes telling stories of our Dumbledore when he was younger, or bringing items that he thought would entertain those who always stayed in the room throughout the day and had nothing to do, like books or board games that he found around his home.

Snape and the Carrows obviously noticed that the students were disappearing and tried their best to find and stop them. Snape made speeches at meals; the Carrows patrolled the corridors and tried to force the other professors to help track the students down; they tried to convince the portraits to tell them what they knew, but the paintings were on our side and said nothing of our whereabouts; and they threatened the students that still remained in the classes that horrible things would await them if they were to be found to be withholding information.

Draco and I regularly checked the dungeons and other abandoned areas of the school for chained up students, freeing them and taking them to the Room of Requirement where they were welcomed with open arms and a hammock ready for them to occupy.

The Carrows never suspected us as the perpetrators who were freeing the victims of their temper because we played our part well. We fed them false information about the location of the students who had gone missing. For example, last Tuesday, Draco had “seen Neville sneaking down to the kitchens to retrieve food”, when in actuality, Neville had been tucked away in the Room of Requirement playing chess with a Ravenclaw.

Everything was going perfectly until a sixth year Hufflepuff named Jamie Montgomery was caught hauling her trunk up a staircase. The daft thing hadn’t thought of shrinking it to make her migration to the Room less conspicuous and easier.

Amycus had caught her and instantly knew that she was heading towards the hideout. So he snatched her up and dragged her down to the dungeons where she was chained up and questioned.

Now, when I say ‘questioned’, I don’t mean he sat down across from Jamie and politely asked her questions over a spot of tea and biscuits punctuated with jokes and laughs. Amycus tortured the poor thing until her screams were heard all the way in the Ravenclaw Tower. 

At first, he used the Cruciatus curse until Jamie passed out from the pain, and then woke her up just to use a knife to slice her skin open over and over again, making sure that she wouldn’t die from where she was cut. He cut her left thumb off and she still remained loyal. As she bled from her hand where a finger was now missing and sobbed from the pain, Amycus fastened her chains to the ceiling so she was hanging from her wrists and left her there for days, not feeding her as the blood slid down her arm and her body began to shut down from the pain and lack of care. When Jamie, the brave little soul she was, still refused to give up any information about where she was going with her trunk, Amycus used his wand to burn Jamie, leaving her still hanging from the ceiling and then using Incendio to light her robes aflame, demanding to know where the missing student were hiding. She screamed until her voice was gone as she experienced one of the worst pains imaginable.

This went on for ages before Amycus would leave Jamie alone in the dungeon long enough for Draco and I to free her. When we got her to the Room of Requirement, everyone pitched in healing spell ideas to heal the traumatized Jamie, who only got out of her hammock to use the toilet, and even that made her break down in sobs of pain to the point of someone being forced to levitate her back to her hammack to limit any movement. 

Draco and I tried to contact St. Mungo’s, but since the students had started disappearing, every single piece of mail, incoming and outgoing, was being read, and all floo channels had been closed. To make things worse, Madam Pomfrey had been fired for being a muggleborn. We couldn’t figure out how to get Jamie the help she needed without disclosing our secrets. All we could do was brew the potions that we had the skill and materials for and cast the few healing spells that we knew to try to stop infection and pain.

Her skin was blackened in the areas that her robes had burned the hottest and the skin was peeling away in flakes. We applied a balm that a Ravenclaw named Mikey Levenhagen had made to these areas as often as we could. The area where her left thumb had been was bandaged with wrappings that were changed three times a day. We tried our best our best to heal the cuts that had been inflicted by Amycus’ knife, but some were so serious that we had to treat them the same as the wound on her hand.

Everyone helped poor Jamie in some way; whether it was helping her eat her food or drink her water, or changing her bandages or applying the burn balm, or reading her a novel, or just keeping her company because everyone was in awe of her strength. She had been tortured for days on end and hadn’t given up one sliver of information about the hiding spot. 

Everyone looked up to her

\-----

“Hey Neville?” I asked one day that I was visiting the hideaways in the Room of Requirement, sitting down beside him. He was off in a corner, away from the general crowd that was watching an intense game of Exploding Snap between Seamus and Draco.

“Hey, Liz. What can I do for you?” he smiled, closing the novel that he had been reading.

“Why haven’t I seen Luna?” I questioned. “I figured that she would be one of the first people that you told about this place, but I haven’t seen her anywhere, and, come to think of it, I hadn’t seen her before you guys started hiding in here.”

The smile that had been on his face slowly slid away, being replaced with sad eyes that didn’t want to answer my question. “She was taken,” he muttered under his breath.

“What? Who took her? And where? Why?” I asked, horrified that someone would want to harm such a gentle and kind girl.

“They took her from the Hogwarts Express. I don’t know why and I don’t know where,” he replied, looking at his hands, which rested on his lap.

“Oh, Merlin,” I gasped, my eyes tearing up.

“I know,” he whispered.

I stood up and ran into the closest bathroom, locking the door and silencing the room behind me. Leaning over the sink, I felt the tears began to trail down my cheeks and drip onto the porcelain below. 

Luna. Who’s gentle company could take anyone’s day and make it instantly better with her odd personality that everyone loved. She just had that kind of air about her. A calming presence. And someone had taken her. For all I knew, she could be dead.

I hadn’t even known her that well but she was the first student that I knew personally that the war had wrapped its thorny tendrils around and taken away from me. 

And I worked for the man who had had her taken.

The man who had taken other children like Luna from their homes and their friends, or had taken their parents, or their little siblings.

The man- no. The monster who killed innocent people just for not being a full blood wizard.

The monster who had forced us into hiding in the castle that had once been a utopia.

The monster who’s minion had tortured Jamie Montgomery so harshly that she’ll never look or be the same.

The monster who had taken his name and carved it into my forearm in the form of a snake and skull, binding my fate to his.

The monster who, despite the ending of this war, has taken my future and sent it up in flames.

The monster who did the same to the man I love.

The monster who killed my mum.

My sobs were so loud in my ears that I almost didn’t hear the knocking on the door. “Lizzie?” a familiar voice called from the other side of the door. “Liz, are you in there?”

Hearing Draco’s worried voice only made me sob harder.

“Lizzie, let me in,” he called more urgently, jiggling the door knob. 

Voldemort had kidnapped Luna.

“Come on, Liz. Don’t make me force my way in.”

Voldemort had kidnapped Luna and killed my mum. Luna might be dead too.

She was innocent.

She was sweet.

She could be dead.

The lock clicked open and Draco slid in, locking the door behind him. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked gently, walking up to me and placing a hand on my back.

“He- he- t-” I heaved, trying to tell him about Luna. I couldn’t get one word out around my sobs.

“Shhh, slow down,” he whispered, rubbing my back. “Try again. What’s wrong?” I could see his blonde hair out of the corner of my eye, blurred from the tears.

“He- I- Dra- Luna.”

“What about Luna? Come on, love. Breathe,” he coaxed gently.

“I- I- can’t- not-”

“Okay, that’s alright. Let go of the sink. We can sit down,” he hummed calmly, placing a hand on mine.

But my fingers were clamped down too hard on the edge of the sink. I couldn’t unclamp them.

“I- can’t- Drac- no-”

“It’s okay. Just try to relax your hands,” he muttered, trying to gently pry my fingers from the sink. His fingers worked at mine and I continued to sob uncontrollably until he got my fingers off of the sink. “Alright, come here.” He encased me in his arms and slowly slid down to the floor. “It’s okay, love. Shhhh. I’m right here.”

I curled up into a ball and rested my head on his chest as he rocked me back and forth, rubbed a hand up and down my back, and whispered soothing words until my sobs had been decreased to hiccups and quiet tears.

“He took Luna,” I told him, occasionally interrupted by hiccups. “You-Know-Who. He took- Luna. That’s what hap-pened on the train. I didn’t- I didn’t even know her- that well. But it- it hurts.”

“It’s okay. Luna is tough. I’m sure she is just fine,” Draco whispered into my hair.

“That’s not it. He- he’s ruined our future. When this- war is over, no matter- no matter who wins, life will be hell. If- if he wins... I don’t- I don’t even want- to think about that- that hell. But if- if Harry wins- we’ll always be looked at- as Death Eaters. We will- always be Death Eaters. We’ll be- be treated like criminals. And- and I don’t blame them. We are- we are criminals. We almost killed- Dumble-dore. He’s dead because- because we let them into- the castle.” I lifted my head and looked into Draco’s silver eyes. “Draco, if we- if we hadn’t let them in. Dumble-dore would be alive and- and he would have fought- You-Know-Who and Neville and- and Ginny and little Sam- Sammy wouldn’t have to be- hiding for their lives. We’re the cause of- of this war. We’re the cause of- Jamie’s disfiguration. We’re the cause of- of so many deaths. What- what have we done?”

“Lizzie Samuels, you listen to me,” he said sternly, shifting so that he was looking at me straight on. “We made mistakes. But you know what? They weren’t our mistakes. Three horrible men dragged us into a mess we wanted no part of and forced us to do something that will haunt us forever. And so what if people think we are criminals? Since when have you cared what people think about you? We know the truth about what happened. That’s all that matters. We know the truth. So do those people out there in that room. They know that we were forced into doing the unforgivable by wand point and they still care for us.”

“B-but Dumbledore,” I hiccupped, lips trembling.

“Yes, a great man died, but somewhere out there is another man. This man has unruly, black hair; insufferably horrid glasses that don’t look at all flattering on him; an intolerable personality that makes me want to hex him to the moon; and a scar that was carved into his forehead by a beast who has changed so many lives for the worse. But this man with curly hair, round glasses, and a lightning shaped scar will come back from wherever he is and kill the beast, saving us all.”

“Do you really- believe that?” Draco brought a hand up to my cheek and wiped my tears away.

“As much as he bothers me, I do believe that Harry is the Chosen One, and that he will win this war,” Draco affirmed.

“Thank you, Dra- Draco,” I whispered, leaning my head on his chest once again.

“My pleasure,” he breathed, kissing my head.


	31. Chapter 31

Draco’s POV:

“Draco?” Lizzie spoke, pulling her eyes up from her Dark Arts homework and looking as if she was hesitant to say what she wanted to.

We had been working on our extensive list of homework for a few hours now, and I had noticed Lizzie nervously chewing on her lip and playing with her necklace in between quick glances at me. I figured that if she wanted to share whatever was on her mind, she would do so when she was ready.

“Hmm?” I hummed in response, looking up at her from my own homework.

She sighed and closed her eyes. “I want to come back to the Manor with over Easter break,” she blurted quickly. 

My quill slipped, causing a black streak to stretch across my parchment. “Absolutely not,” I hissed, lifting my gaze to her face.

“Why not?” she challenged, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Maybe because of the murderous psychopath who has made it his headquarters,” I whispered angrily, being sure that no one in the common room were to hear our conversation.

“I don’t care. I want to come back with you.” She set her quill down and leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms in defiance.

“There is not a chance in hell that I will let you step foot in that building,” I snapped.

“What happened to votre chagrin est mon chagrin?” she shot back. “Your grief is my grief. We are in this together.”

“That doesn’t apply to a murderer, Lizzie!”

“It applied to a murder and I don’t want you to be alone there!” she argued, raising her voice.

“Keep your voice down,” I spit. 

“I’ll talk just as loud as I want to,” she practically yelled, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“I don’t want you staying in a house where You-Know-Who kills muggles and tortures innocent people. You are not coming back to the Manor with me and that is final.”

“Then come stay with me and Gray,” she offered shortly.

“I can’t leave my mum there alone.”

“She can come, too.”

“You can’t just invite people to come stay in a house that’s not yours,” I snapped.

“I live there, too! It’s not just Grayson’s!” She flung her hands in the air in exasperation. “Either you come and stay with me at Gray’s or I come and stay with you at the Manor. I am not giving you any other choice here.”

“You are not coming to the Manor and I am not going to Grayson’s. Period,” I said, slamming my book shut for good measure before standing and storming to my dormitory.

\-----

Dear Grayson,

Do not wait up for me to return for Easter break. I will be spending it with Draco at Malfoy Manor. 

Until you come to your senses,  
Lizzie

\-----

When the time came for the remaining students that weren’t hiding in the Room of Requirement to travel home for Easter Break, I had thoroughly made sure that Lizzie knew that she was not coming back to Malfoy Manor with me. She put up quite the fight, insistent on staying with me, but caved at the end. She was going home to Grayson and I was going to Voldemort.

We hardly talked on the way back to London. Lizzie pretended to be asleep for a good majority of the time and I tried to read. She was upset that I had refused to allow her to come back to the Manor with me, saying I didn’t understand the French saying that she continuously said to me with a crinkled nose and furrowed eyebrows. I would respond with a huff.

As we unboarded the train, I thought of the few of the students hiding away with Longbottom were going home for the holiday. They were going to travel through the tunnel to Aberforth’s and then apparating home.

“I’ll see you in a week,” I muttered to Liz, wrapping my arms around her.

“Yeah, a week,” she replied.

“Don’t you dare come to the Manor, you hear me?” 

“Yes, I hear you,” she frowned.

“Stay safe, Liz,” I whispered.

“You too.”

I watched as she turned and walked into the crowd, her auburn hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail was swinging slowly as she ambled away from me. I only turned around when she had disappeared from my view, having been blocked by a family who were embracing as if they hadn’t seen each other for years. 

The tug behind my navel, unpleasant and uncomfortable, and the feeling of being pulled through a straw squeezed the breath from me. Just as I decided that I would never breathe again, it all stopped and I was ho- back at the Manor.

I wanted to call the building that appeared in front if me home, but it hadn’t been my home for a while. It was just a place that I stayed while I wasn’t at Hogwarts. Like a hotel. I think it lost the title the second Voldemort had set foot inside, condemning me, my family, and Lizzie to a life of hell.

Pursing my lips and flicking my wand at my trunk, I began to walk up the gravel path that would lead me to the front door, where I would knock and a quivering house elf would answer, inviting me in with a bow. I had never liked that I was welcomed back by a house elf rather than my own family. My father considered it a menial task that took up too much time and forbade my mother from doing it. 

I was correct. The second I had banged the silver knocker on the door, a little house elf, one that I had never seen before, opened the door and immediately bowed to me. “Welcome back, Master Malfoy. Mistress Malfoy is being waiting for Master Malfoy in the library. Would Master Malfoy like Shinkle to take his trunk to his bedroom?”

“Yes, Shinkle,” I replied, looking past her to make sure that the path towards the library was clear. “Thank you very much.”

With a squeak, Shinkle opened the door further for me, allowing me to pass over the threshold and apparating away with my trunk with a snap of her little fingers after the door had been shut and locked behind me. 

With a sigh, I willed my legs to move forward, the sounds of my shoes echoing around the room. For the first time since the war had really picked up, the place was quiet. No screaming prisoners. No laughing Death Eaters. No moaning in pain. It was odd.

When I reached the library, the door was open. My mother was sitting at one of the tables, a book open in one hand, a cup of tea in the other. She was wearing her favorite dress. Made of green velvet that she liked to stroke when she wore it. Her hair was pulled into a bun at the base of her neck, a pale knot that contrasted with her dress.

“Mother,” I breathed, stepping into the room.

She set her book and tea down, standing and quickling making her way over to me. “Oh, Draco,” she smiled, encasing me in her arms. I hugged her back tightly, glad that she was okay. “It’s wonderful to see you again,” she said, holding me at arm's length and studying me.

“I’ve missed you,” I replied with a smile. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” she agreed. “Come. Sit. Let’s talk over some tea.” She lead me over to the table where she had been sitting. I sat down in the chair beside her and studied her as she summoned a house elf and asked for some fresh tea for us.

She looked the same as she had over the Christmas holiday, thank Merlin. Her face was still hollow and worried, but whose wasn’t these days?

When the house elf arrived with the tea, made just the way Mother and I like it, with two lumps of sugar and a bit of honey, she spoke again. “How was Hogwarts, dear?”

“It was alright,” I lied, blowing on the steaming liquid to cool it down. “Just as you’d expect it to be given the circumstances.”

She smiled a sad smile, agreeing with what I had said. “How are you, though? Severus treating you alright?”

“I hardly see Severus anymore, now that he’s not teaching. I really only see him at meals,” I replied, knowing that it wasn’t the answer she expected.

With a frown, she replied, “You hardly see him? The man is you godfather. Do you not meet with him?”

“He’s so busy dealing with the insurgents that I don’t mind,” I told her.

“Insurgents?” She cocked her head to the side and raised a dainty eyebrow.

I nodded. “Yes. Some of the students don’t particularly like how school is being run. Especially when it comes to the two that Severus put in charge of discipline.”

“Amycus and Alecto, isn’t it?” she questioned. I nodded as I took a sip of the tea. “I can see why. Those two are rather… enthusiastic.”

“Indeed,” I agreed. “How is Father?” I really didn’t want to know about the man, but I asked anyway, just to make Mother pleased.

“Oh, he’s been busy lately. That’s why it’s so quiet around here recently. He’s been taking a few others out and searching for Harry Potter and trying to recruit others to the Dark Lord’s forces.”

I pursed my lips and nodded. Trying to recruit others. He was going around convincing creatures to join the war. Most likely werewolves, vampires, giants, and the like. Voldemort wanted the numbers.

“Anyway, how is Lizzie? I do miss her. She’s so sweet,” Mother asked, smiling and trying to change the subject.

“She’s quite well,” I lied, thinking of how stressed and frustrated she has been. “She wanted to come stay with us over the break, but I thought it was for the best if she stayed with her brother instead.”

“Yes, that’s probably the best,” she replied. “Anyway, it’s wonderful to have you back, Draco. You should probably go get settled. Dinner will be in an hour.”

“I’m glad to be back.” Lies, lies, lies. “I’ll be down for dinner soon.” I stood and kissed her on the forehead before leaving the room.

Why did I have to lie so much to her? Growing up, I had never been able to lie. She somehow always knew when I was fibbing, but most of what I had just said to her in there were lies.

Lies, lies, lies.

The war has changed me.

I thought about my second year. The year Slytherin’s monster had been going around the school and petrifying muggle borns and half bloods. I had been an arse. I remember tormenting Potter because everyone thought he was the one that had opened the Chamber of Secrets. I was cocky because I’m a pureblood. I knew that I wouldn’t be attacked by the monster, and I thought it wouldn’t attack Lizzie either because, up until fifth year, I had thought she was a pureblood as well. Now I know that she could have been attacked just as easily as Granger was.

I thought about my fourth year. The year of the Triwizard Tournament. The year that I had picked on Potter harder than ever because he was the champion that wasn’t supposed to be. The TRIwizard Tournament. Not the QUADwizard Tournament. I thought of the badges I had made and sniggered to myself. I had worked so hard to charm so many of them, making sure Lizzie didn’t find out because I knew she wouldn’t approve.

I thought of my sixth year. The year that Draco Malfoy the bully had turned into Draco Malfoy the Death Eater. I had been a common school-boy arsehole, but I had been changed into a criminal who almost killed the greatest wizard who had ever lived.

The war has changed me.

My trunk was waiting at the end of my bed for me in a room that hasn’t changed from the moment I had moved into it. The walls have always been this cream. My covers had always been that grey. My floor had always been that white.

I frowned. I had changed, but nothing around me had changed.

“Coloveria,” I muttered, my wand pointed to the wall. Instantly, the cream colored walls became a rich, emerald green. I smirked, happy with the product, before pointing my wand to the floor. 

“Mutatia.” The white carpeting changed into white marble, making the room look more sophisticated.

“Coloveria.” I changed my dark grey duvet white. 

Happy with the way my room had changed, I nodded my head and began to unpack my trunk.


	32. Chapter 32

Draco’s POV:

Once all of my clothes had been washed and hung up in my wardrobe, I went down to join Mother for dinner. The house elves had made us a nice dinner that was way better than what Hogwarts or even Aberforth had been providing us. We were going to be eating tagliatelle with chanterelle mushrooms in a white wine sauce. It was my mother’s favorite and to see her enjoying it made me enjoy it that much more.

“Should we be expecting any visitors?” I asked, a few silent minutes into our dinner.

Should I expect to run into Voldemort?

“Your father will be gone for a few more days. When he returns, some others may be returning with him,” she answered, looking down at her pasta, knowing what I had been implying.

In a few days.

“What should I be expecting when he returns?” I queried, scared of the answer that could fall from her red lips.

What will he make me do?

“I couldn’t say,” she admitted, looking at me with a guilty expression of trepidation.

Like myself, Mother wanted no part of Voldemort’s little game. She, like myself, had simply been dragged into it by Father, who Voldemort had under his thumb. She, like myself, wanted nothing more than for Harry Potter to come and destroy the ugly snake, freeing us all from his darkness. But she, like myself, was dreading what would become of our family come the end of this war, no matter who wins.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered with a sigh.

“Language, Draco,” she snapped.

“Sorry, Mum,” I replied, somewhat guiltily. I took a bite of the pasta and watched the frown on my mother’s face deepen. 

I was about to apologize again when Winny, the little house elf I was familiar with, apparated into the room, making me jump slightly.

“Hello, Winny,” Mother greeted the small creature. “What is it?”

“Mistress Malfoy,” Winny squeaked, nervously twiddling her hands and looking at her grimy feet. “A girl at the door asked Winny to retrieve Master Malfoy.”

I sighed deeply. “Winny, does this girl happen to have a scar on her cheek. Right here?” I asked, pointing to the area under my eye, where, about a year prior, a certain grey-eyed girl I knew got cut during a raid of her house.

“Yessir, Master Malfoy. Winny saw it herself,” Winny said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Thank you, Winny,” I sighed. “I’ll go let her in.”

“Draco?” Mother questioned as I stood from my chair, the legs screeching as I pushed away from the table.

“It’s Lizzie,” I confided with a frown, rubbing a hand across my face. “I told her she was not to come, but she is a bit… strong willed, if you must.”

“I see,” she replied, equally as troubled as I was. “Well, go let the dear in. We don’t want to leave her waiting.” She waved a manicured hand at me and I walked through the dining room and to the entrance hall.

“Elizabeth Samuels,” I snapped, upon opening the door and seeing the girl standing on the doorstep. She was dressed in muggle jeans and a grey jumper, with a hesitant and guilty smile on her face.

“Draco Malfoy,” she greeted calmly, raising a hand in a small wave.

“I thought I told you not to come here,” I scowled, my hand still tightly clenching the door knob. “You need to go back to Grayson’s flat.”

“I thought I told you that I didn’t want you in this house alone,” she spoke, mocking me.

I huffed angrily, pursing my lips. “Please go home, Lizzie.”

“You are my home, Draco,” she whispered pleadingly. “I don’t want you to have to spend your Easter holiday locked up in a place where Death roams the halls like it owns the place.”

“I don’t want you here, Lizzie. It’s not safe for you.”

“And it’s safe for you?” she countered easily.

“No- Yes- I mean- ugh. Lizzie, just please go back to Grayson’s!” I stammered.

“I’m not leaving.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

I stepped through the doorway onto the doorstep, placing my hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Listen, it’s sweet that you don’t want me alone, but there is not a chance in Merlin’s saggy balls that I am going to let you into this house!”

“Draco, mind your language when you are in the presence of a lady,” my mother spoke from behind me. I rolled my eyes and sighed, knowing where this was going.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” Lizzie grinned, shrugging off my hands, stepping around me, and holding out a hand. “How wonderful to see you again.”

“Lizzie, dear,” Mother replied, stepping through the door and embracing Lizzie warmly, as if she were her own daughter. “How many times must I tell you, it’s Narcissa when it comes to you.”

“More than once, ma’am,” Lizzie smiled.

“Aren’t you just a lamb. Why don’t you come in. Draco and I were just having dinner and we would love for you to join us,” Mother said, leading Lizzie into the Manor. “I’m sure the house elves made more than enough for just the two of us.”

“I would love nothing more,” Lizzie agreed, letting Mother lead her.

“Mother,” I interrupted, stopping her. “Don’t you think it would be best for Lizzie to spend the holiday with her brother?”

“Nonsense, she’s here now, so she might as well join us for dinner. I hope you like tagliatelle.”

“I can’t say that I know what that is, but I’m sure it will be delicious,” Lizzie replied, giving me snarky smile.

Bloody fucking hell.

I had lost.

Lizzie was being lead into the building where Voldemort held and tortured his prisoners, condemning them to a fate worse than hell.

And Lizzie was going to see it all first hand.


	33. Chapter 33

Lizzie’s POV:

The tagliatelle that the house elves had made was utterly delicious, and Mrs. Malfoy, as usual, was so kind to me. While we conversed easily about my brother and Draco and everything else that wasn’t related to the war, Draco sat brooding and pushing the pasta around his plate, only answering in one or two sentences.

When dinner was drawing to an end, Draco excused us, taking my arm and dragging me out of the room.

“Hey, where are we going? Your bedroom is that way,” I asked, pointing behind us with a confused face.

“You are going home. You had dinner with us. You saw that there’s nothing unsafe for me here. It’s just a house. So you can go back to Grayson,” he huffed.

I yanked my arm from his hand and stopped, crossing my arms over my chest. “No.”

“No?” he repeated, whirling around with an angry snarl on his face.

“Yes. You heard me correctly. I said no,” I drawled, holding my head high.

Draco closed the distance between us in one long stride and put his face very close to mine. “You are not spending one more moment in this house, Elizabeth. You are going to go out that door and you are going to go apparate yourself to your brother’s flat. That is who you should be spending this break with.”

“If the house is so safe, then there is no reason for you to need to force me out,” I argued, raising an eyebrow.

“I never said-”

“You did. You said that ‘now that I had seen that there was nothing unsafe for you here, I should go home’,” I spoke, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’m not giving in, Draco.”

“I’m not giving in either,” he snapped.

“Hmph. Fine then,” I said, turning on my heel and walking back to the dining room.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he hissed, hurrying to my side.

“Mrs. Malfoy?” I asked, when I approached the woman who was just finishing up her dinner.

“Hello, Lizzie,” she smiled. “What can I help you with?”

“Don’t you dare,” Draco sneered, putting a hand on my arm. I shook it off.

“Mrs. Malfoy, would you mind if I were to spend the holiday here with your family?” I asked.

The woman frowned. “Well, you really should spend it with your brother.”

“My brother and I had a rather major row. He doesn’t want me in his flat at the moment,” I lied, furrowing my eyebrows and making my eyes water as if I were about to cry to make the lie more believable.

“Oh dear,” she whispered, placing a hand over her heart. “Of course you are welcome to stay with us. Our doors are always open to you, Lizzie.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Malfoy. Really,” I smiled.

“You are very welcome, darling,” she replied with a smile.

“Let’s go, Draco,” I smirked upon turning around. He was livid, which should have somewhat scared me or made me feel bad, but, instead, it made me feel my success even more.

I walked past him and up the stair that led to the bedrooms, hearing his footsteps storming towards me.

“You don’t know what you’ve done, Lizzie,” he growled, catching up to my light steps. 

Ignoring what he said, I opened the door to his bedroom and held it open for him, then shutting it.

“I’m not kidding, Liz. It’s not good for anyone to be in this building. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into,” he flared.

I stomped right up to him and lifted my lip in a snarl. “No. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into. But I don’t care if You-Know-Who him bloody self came waltzing through those doors and Crucio’d me for hours because I would be here with you and that is all that I want. I am not going to let you stay in this house by yourself any more because I don’t know what it’s like here. You-Know-Who could be Crucioing you for all I know! I can’t stand not knowing if you’re okay or not. So I am not leaving this house, and if I have to bloody lie to your mum everyday, I will.”

I stood there breathing roughly and staring into his eyes, refusing to back down. He lifted a hand and placed it on my cheek, running his thumb across my skin. “I just want you safe, Liz,” he breathed.

“I don’t need a hero, Draco,” I replied, quietly but sternly.

“I know. I just... I have try,” he sighed, pulling me to his chest.

“And I have to try to protect you,” I muttered, burying my face into his neck and relishing the warmth of his skin on mine.

I felt the rumble of his chest when he spoke. “You’re so stubborn.”

I smiled into his neck. “I know.”

\-----

When Draco had finally accepted that I was staying, he helped me get settled, clearing out part of his wardrobe so I could clear out my trunk (which I had brought with me, shrunk) and hang my clothes up. 

We spent the first three days of the break wandering through the Manor, spending a lot of time in the Rose Garden that he had introduced me to ages ago. Since spring was only just picking up, the blooms on the flowers seemed brighter and fuller than the last time I had seen them. I couldn’t help but stop and smell them every so often, making Draco smile.

Life could have been perfect had it not for the war looming over us. We were reminded of the danger that we were in when Draco’s father returned home from wherever he had been.

We were in the library that day, reading a book about a witch with green skin who makes an enemy of her schools headmistress and a wizard, who tells everyone that she’s wicked. She has to go on the run with a man she loves, who ends up turning into a scarecrow.

We were enjoying our time together, and it was almost like the war wasn’t happening. I guess we jinxed ourselves.

“Draco, darling, would you come out here?” Draco’s mum called from the entrance hall.

Draco glanced at me with a wary expression and stood. “Erm- You should probably wait here,” he muttered looking towards the door.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, at least for now,” he replied.

“Okay I’ll be here,” I said, watching as he walked out of the room, then lying down on the sofa we taken up residence on. I placed the book on my stomach and put my hands behind my head, looking up at the ceiling.

What had made Draco act that way? Like he wanted me to hide under a bed?

What had his mother wanted?

Draco had hardly been out of the room for three minutes before he came hurrying in, his brows furrowed and his mouth drawn into a thin line. “Go upstairs, please,” he said quickly.

“Draco? What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up.

“Quickly,” he rushed, helping me off of the sofa. “Please.”

“Tell me what’s going on!” I demanded. 

“Later, just, please-”

“Miss Samuels,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Lucius Malfoy stood there in black robes, his hands folded in front of him. “How… delightful to have you here with us.”

“Father-”

“Hush, Draco,” Lucius snapped. “Miss Samuels, why don’t you come join us in the Drawing Room? I do believe we have something that might be of interest to you.”

“Father, I must-” Draco tried, stepping in between Lucius and myself, who had been walking closer with each word.

“I said hush, Draco,” the man snapped, making Draco flinch.

“What would this thing that ‘might be of interest to me’ happen to be?” I asked, crossing my arms and looking to Lucius with an expression of loathing.

“Why don’t you just follow me and find out?” he sneered.

“Lead the way.”

“Gladly.” 

Lucius Malfoy turned on his heel and walked through the door with me and Draco on his tail. Our shoes clicked on the floor as we walked.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t what I saw.

Because I saw Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger kneeling on the floor with snatchers standing behind them, their wands digging into their necks.


	34. Chapter 34

Lizzie’s POV:

It was Harry Potter.

Sure he looked like he had been hit by a nasty stinging hex and was missing his glasses.

Sure he looked haggard, his hair longer than I had ever seen it, his face and arms covered in dirt, his clothes torn as if he had fallen into a pit of thorns.

But there was no doubt about it.

It was Harry Potter.

“Miss Samuels,” Lucius called smugly from beside me. “Would you happen to know who these people are?”

“I’m sorry?” I asked, still in shock of seeing the three Gryffindors in front of me.

“Is this not Harry Potter?” he clarified, stepping forward and putting his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it too tightly. I hissed from the sudden pressure and noticed how Draco stepped forward.

“Take your hand off of her,” he commanded, facing his father.

“Look again, Miss Samuels,” he snapped, grabbing my chin and turning my head roughly to face Harry. 

Instead of looking to Harry, I studied the room. There were four snatchers, two Death Eaters, Lucius, Bellatrix, Mrs. Malfoy, me, Hermione, Ron, and Harry. Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s wands were in the hands of one of the snatchers, who handed them to Draco and drew his own wand, glaring at me with menace.

“I said take your hand off of her,” Draco growled, his tone sounding dangerous.

Lucius swivelled his head towards his son, bringing a hand up and slapping his son across the face.

“How dare you?” I snarled, ripping out of Lucius’ grip. “He’s your son and you just hit him. You monst-” He lifted a hand and brought it down on my face. So hard that I felt my nose break, feeling the sticky warmth of blood run down my face.

The room fell silent after I heard a small gasp, and then Draco roared and launched himself at his father, his face red with rage. He knocked Lucius to the floor and then began to pound his fists down onto the man’s face, making blood appear.

“DON’T YOU EVER TOUCH HER AGAIN OR I SWEAR I’ll KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU!” he screamed, even as one of the snatchers came over and heaved him off of Lucius, who stood up and wiped the blood off of his face.

“You make sure he doesn’t move,” he snapped to the snatcher who was holding Draco. “I want him to see this.” He then walked towards me and grabbed me by my hair, dragging me forward and forcing me down onto my knees in front of Harry. I cried out in pain as Draco continued to scream threats at his father. “Look at him. I said LOOK AT HIM!” he yelled when I refused to look towards Harry. He once again grabbed my chin and turned my head towards Harry. “Is this Harry Potter?”

I opened my eyes and looked at the man looking back at me. 

His face was horribly disfigured, obviously having been hit directly in the face by a stinging hex. I applauded Hermione. It was utterly brilliant to make him unrecognizable when they had been captured. This could only have been her.

His green eyes stared back into mine. Completely blank. He wasn’t pleading with me to lie and tell everyone that it wasn’t him. He was staring back at me with blank eyes.

I stared back with eyes that showed pain, horror, happiness, sadness, anger, and every other expression that existed.

“Is this Harry Potter?” he hissed, tightening his grip on my hair and my chin, making me squeak. 

I could feel the blood running down my neck now. 

I could hear Draco still yelling and struggling with the man who was holding him hostage.

I could hear Hermione shifting slightly from the way the wand was digging into her neck.

I could hear Harry’s breathing.

I could see the stinging hex wearing off.

I could feel Lucius’ nails digging into my cheeks.

“No,” I whispered.

“What?” the man hissed.

“I said no,” I snapped, pulling my face out of Lucius’ grip. “Harry has blue eyes. He has green eyes.” I pointed at Harry, looking at him and hoping that he understood what I was doing. And then looking to Hermione and hoping that she would catch on.

“Blue- are you sure?” Lucius growled, stepping towards me.

“Positive,” I replied with vehemence. “Harry Potter was my friend. He has blue eyes. This man has green eyes.”

He turned his head away from me, his nose crinkled and lip curled. Figuring that he was done with me, I backed away, going towards Draco.

He wrenched himself from the snatcher and ran to me, holding my face in his hands and wiping the blood off.

“I’m fine, Draco,” I muttered, inspecting his own face where his father had hit him. “Really, I am.”

We backed away, trying to blend in as Bellatrix, who had remained close to silent until now, saw something that one of the snatchers was holding.

“Where did you get that?” she whispered, petrified.

“Found it with them,” he responded, nodding his head towards the three kneeling in front of him. “Reckon it’s mine now.” He gave her a toothy grin, showing it off.

Suddenly, the man is on the floor, dead, and Hermione’s face was whiter than white from the curse that had flew past her head. Bellatrix whirled around, throwing the Unforgivable Curse around and nailing all of the snatchers in the chest until they were all on the floor. She had slaughtered four people without blinking an eye. With a flick of her wrist, the Sword of Gryffindor was in her hand.

“This sword is meant to be in my vault at Gringotts. These children are thieves.” The tendons in her neck were twitching with absolute fury.

“We- we found it,” Hermione whimpered, eyeing the man who was lying dead by her knees. “It’s a fake.”

I realized that I had been holding Draco’s hand so tightly that his fingers were turning purple and I loosened my grip.

“Found it?” she repeated. “It seems we need to have a little chat. Girl to girl. Put the boys in the cellar.” She grabbed Hermione by the wrist and pulled her into the center of the room, as the two Death Eaters that I didn’t know grabbed Harry and Ron, dragging them out of the room towards the dungeon. Ron was screaming his bloody brains out, trying to get back to Hermione.

“Where did you get the sword,” Bellatrix demanded psychotically, holding her wand under Hermione’s chin. 

“I- I told you,” she whimpered. “We found it. In the Forest of Dean.”

“LIES!” Bellatrix screeched, throwing Hermione onto the ground, where she landed with a grunt. “Crucio!”

Hermione screamed as if her body were on fire, reminding of Jamie’s screams.

I turned and buried my face into Draco’s chest and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me closely.

I could hear the girl thrashing around on the floor as if she were a fish out of water, her screams reverberating around the room.

Then they stopped.

Fearing that Bellatrix had lost all patience and put Hermione out of her misery, I snapped my head up and saw Hermione heaving on the floor, her tears streaming down her face.

“I’ll ask you one more time. Where did you get the sword?” Bellatrix seethed through her teeth.

“It’s not real!” Hermione sobbed. “It’s a fake!”

The crazy woman reached into her robes and brought out a gleaming dagger. Pinning Hermione to the ground and forcing one arm out, she brought the dagger down to her forearm, dragging it across the pale skin as she screamed and kicked her legs in pain. At the first sight of Hermione’s blood spilling from her body. I felt my eyes water and I once again buried my face into Draco’s chest.

When the sound of Hermione’s thrashing stopped, I once again feared that she had expired, so I pulled my face from Draco’s chest, to see her lying there, silent and eyes open as tears leaked from her eyes. She was staring at her wound, which I couldn’t tear my eyes away from. 

MUDBLOOD.

“Bring the goblin!” Bellatrix screeched. I only faintly heard her over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears. 

Bellatrix had carved a foul, foul word into the arm of a girl I had once considered a friend, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.

She would live with that word on her skin forever. A constant reminder of what happened in this room.

I heard Bellatrix yelling once again, and this time, I pulled my eyes away from the pool of blood that was collecting beside Hermione.

One of the Death Eaters that I didn’t know, a man with large teeth and a rather rat-like face, began to move towards the dungeon, his wand drawn. I listened faintly as his footsteps faded, wondering who he was going to retrieve this time.

A few moments after he disappeared, Harry and Ron barged into the room, Harry brandishing the Death Eater’s wand. Ron’s eyes land on Hermione and he roars, running forward, dodging the spells that were being launched at him. Harry followed, deflecting the spells and firing back at the attackers.

When Harry’s eyes find Draco and me, he notices the wands that were still in Draco’s hands and he rushes towards us, wrestling the wands from Draco before he disapparates with Hermione, Ron, and the goblin.

The room was silent.

And then Lucius turns his head towards me.


	35. Chapter 35

Draco’s POV:

“Harry Potter has blue eyes,” Lucius sneered, advancing towards my Lizzie, the slow footsteps emanating from his impeccably shiny shoes echoing in my ears.

“Lucius,” Mother warned, her voice sharp yet soft. She walked up to the enraged man and put a gentle yet firm hand on his arm, which he roughly shook off with a withering glance in her direction. She backed off slightly, knowing that there was nothing that she could say to stop him, but she remained prepared should she need to step in. No one knew better than the two of us the extent of Lucius’ temper.

“This man isn’t Harry Potter. He has green eyes. Harry Potter has blue eyes,” he seethed, getting too close to Lizzie. I saw her flinch away from him and watched the specks of spit that flew from his mouth.

Seeing Lizzie flinch away from Lucius was the last straw. I stepped between him and Lizzie, pushing her behind my back. “That’s enough,” I snapped. Lizzie doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t cower away from people. She was the type who would fight back, biting out a cutthroat comeback or throwing a spell or fists.

“Step aside, Draco,” Lucius fumed, his silver eyes flashing with something dangerous. “This is a matter between me and Miss Samuels.”

“I will not ‘step aside’,” I countered with a firmness in my voice that let him know I wasn’t about to back down from this fight. Squaring my shoulders, I prepared myself for what I knew was coming.

Lucius drew his wand and flicked it at me, causing ropes to lace around my body, binding my arms behind my back and immobilizing my legs. With another flick, he threw me to the wall, my head hitting with a sickening crack and causing the world to blur.

Mother made a noise of indignancy and hurried to my side, throwing a boiling glare into Lucius’ direction as if willing him to burst into flames. It was in that moment that I knew her allegiance had changed.

“We just lost our best chance at Harry Potter because you claimed that Harry Potter has blue eyes,” he hissed. “Why don’t we just see what the Dark Lord has to say about Harry Potter’s blue eyes.” Lucius ripped his sleeve up, exposing the patch of pale skin that was darkened by the mark of a murderous bastard. 

“Lucius,” my mother said shrilly, standing and facing the man. “Do you realize-”

“SILENT!” he roared, pressing his wand to his Mark.

I felt the skin of my left forearm begin to slither and crawl as if an actual snake was moving underneath of my skin.

Before the monstrous beast arrived, the ropes of consciousness slipped from my grasp and I plunged into the dark pit of black, begging whatever deity was out there that Lizzie would be okay when I woke.

\-----

When I finally regained the ability to open my eyes, the first thing I knew was pain. I could feel it radiating from the back of my head in waves, drawing a moan from my mouth.

The second thing I knew was that I was in my bedroom. I could feel the soft material of my bedsheets underneath of me.

The third thing I knew was that Lizzie wasn’t in the bed beside me, and the thought of that gave me an odd feeling in my stomach, like when one is swimming and tries to put their feet down but it’s deeper than anticipated and the ground isn’t there. 

The fourth thing I knew was the realization of what had happened in the Drawing Room. I sat bolt upright and darted to my door, not caring about the black spots that spun across my vision or the explosion of pain that made me want to collapse.

My bare feet padded down the stairs, taking me directly to the Sitting Room, where my mother sat in a black dress, reading a novel and drinking tea.

“Draco-” she said, putting the book down and standing up upon seeing me.

“Where is she?” I rushed, knowing I sounded and looked absolutely desperate but not caring. I needed to find her.

“Draco-”

“Don’t ‘Draco’ me!” I snapped, making her flinch. “Where is she?”

“The Drawing Room, but, Draco-” she called after me as I took off towards the Drawing Room.

I skidded around the corner and threw open the door to the Drawing Room.

The first thing I knew was that I wasn’t alone in the room.

The second thing I knew was that Lizzie was in the room.

The third thing I knew was that something about her wasn’t right.

The fourth thing I knew was that Voldemort was there.

“Ahhh, Draco,” he breathed slowly, looking at me with eyes filled with evil. “Have you come for your dear Lizzie?” He waved a hand to his right where Lizzie was.

I choked on a sob as I realized what was wrong. She was floating. She was in a bubble of silvery strands. Her arms floating out limply to her sides, her head lolling like dead weight, her hair swirling around her head like water. Blood still coated her face from when Lucius broke her nose.

“No,” I cried under my breath, my voice not wanting to work. “No, Lizzie.”

It couldn’t be.

She couldn’t be dead.

Not after all we had gone through.

We were meant to be together to the end.

It was too soon.

My Lizzie.

“She’s not dead,” he cackled, as if reading my mind. “Though she might wish she was.”

“Let her go, please,” I begged, tears dripping from my eyes. “Please, take me instead. I’ll do anything.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Lizzie has wronged me and must learn what happens to those who stray,” he hissed.

“I’m begging you,” I whispered.

“Do not beg,” he snapped, making me jump. “Do not fret for this traitor. She will be freed before you return to Hogwarts in four days time. In the meantime, you might learn a lesson from this girl. Do not cross me.” His eyes flashed before he disapparated, the crack making me leap.

At the realization that the monster had left me alone, I sprinted forward, stopping by Lizzie and her magical encasement.

“What the bloody hell has he done to you?” I whispered, the tears falling more freely. I placed my hand on the hard surface of the magic bubble, the cool outside making tendrils of ice shoot up my arm and wrap around my heart..

I brought my fist down on the cage, hardly feeling the pain that came from the impact.

“WHAT. HAS. HE. DONE!” I roared, allowing everything - grief, anger, despair - to pour out as I slammed my fist down even harder before collapsing onto the hard floor, holding my head in my hands and sobbing. “What have I done?”

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to open my eyes. Because with them closed I could see everything.

Her eyes bore into mine with a new type of perplexity that I admired. She had taken her hair out of the hair-do she had done for the ball and it now fell in loose curls that rested on her shoulders.

The sunlight was shining through the open curtains and lighting the room up with a bright light. The air around me felt relaxed and, dare I say, happy. My left arm was draped over Liz’s waist and she lay snuggled up into my chest, her warmth mixing with mine and keeping us both warm. I could feel her warm breath on my chest, sending shivers down my spine. Her deep grey eyes were opened and staring up at me.

 

\-----

It was fifth year all over again. Lizzie was unconscious and there was nothing I could do to wake her. But instead of Pansy, it was me. It was my fault she was trapped in that awful bubble. I should have fought harder. I should have killed that bastard of a father when I had the chance. Then Lizzie would be here with me instead off locked away in a floating prison.

I tried every spell I knew using my mother’s wand since Potter had taken mine, attempting to shatter the case that held her captive, but nothing made a crack in the starry, transparent bubble. I thumbed through book after book, searching for anything about floating bubbles, but there was nothing. I tried to fight my way through the forcefield, kicking and punching and throwing things, but I only succeeded in breaking a few fingers and a lot of chairs.

I spent days sitting in one of the few chairs that I had dragged into the room and not thrown at the bubble and just watching Lizzie or sobbing.

She was still beautiful despite her blood caked face, crooked nose, and deathlike paleness. She was still the girl of my dreams and not being able to reach her put a crack in my heart. I longed to reach a hand through the wall that separated us and place a hand on her cheek or run my fingers through her ratty hair.

I read to her sometimes. Though I was sure she couldn’t hear me, my voice droned on and on. When we finished that book about the green witch, I began to read La Belle et La Betê, but I couldn’t get more than a page out before breaking down, thinking about the first time we had read it and the dance we had shared as she had sung a song from the muggle movie version.

I swore that if Potter didn’t kill Voldemort, I would. And I would make it the most painful death possible for all that he had done to my family.


	36. Chapter 36

Draco’s POV:

“I’m not sure if you heard earlier, but Mother brought some new books in that she thought you might like,” I whispered, resting my forehead on the hard surface of Lizzie’s cage and looking at her eyelids, just willing them to open and show me the beautiful grey color of her irises. For a moment, I thought I saw them move, but it wasn’t the first time I had imagined it. “She brought Frankenstein, Phantom of the Opera, and Snow White.

“I remember reading Snow White once upon a time and I hate to say that I feel like I’m living her story, but this bloody thing won’t let me kiss you,” I sighed and closed my eyes. “Honestly, I don’t even know if you’ll ever wake up. You could be stuck in this bubble forever, and I would never again be able to see you roll your eyes at me. Even if you never wake up, I’ll stay by your side for the rest of my life.”

A tear rolled down my cheek and dropped onto the surface below me. I watched it trail down the side of the bubble before slipping onto the floor.

“Do you remember when we first met?” I asked, bringing the memory to the forefront of my mind. “Because I do. I think about it all the time and wonder what I could have possibly done to be blessed with you.” I closed my eyes and took myself back in time. “I remember when you walked into that train compartment. Your hair was loads darker then. It was almost black. Your face was softer, still stuck with that chubby childhood innocence that I wish you could have held onto longer. You were so kind and so elegant that I didn’t even question the idea of your blood. I had figured you were a pureblood. You acted just like one and I never would have guessed you were a halfblood had you not told me at that party.

“Oh,” I sighed again, speaking quietly. “I’m so sorry about how I treated you when I found out. To be completely truthful, I didn’t really care about your blood, I was more hurt by the fact that you had hid it from me. 

“And then Pansy tried to kill you,” I recalled with my eyes squeezed shut. I hated thinking about it. “I remember that night. We were eating dinner just down the table from each other and kept glaring at the other. You were eating that bloody sherry tart that you love so much, but then you just collapsed. It started with your eyes, which kind of just… drooped. At first I thought you were rolling your eyes at me like you tend to do. When you fell, you almost fell face first into your sherry tart, but I think your neck rolled the other way and you hit the floor. 

“You looked like an angel lying there, even though you were poisoned. Your hair was all spread out and your face was so calm. It was a rare thing to see you look so emotionless because when you feel, you feel all in. You’re never just a little happy or just a little angry. But you were calm and I wanted to stand there and watch you, just to see you like that some more, but then I realized what had happened.

“I was so scared for you. I knew that Snape was working on the antidote and it would be only a matter of days before you woke up, but I was terrified that you wouldn’t. I guess that’s how I feel right now. I know in my mind that you’ll wake up, but I’m still terrified that something will go wrong and you’ll be stuck in there.

“When you did wake up, I was happier than I ever had been. I remember thinking about how your state had changed so much, but your eyes were exactly the same.

“Honestly, I’m not sure there is anything in this world that I wouldn’t trade to go back to those days. Life was so much simpler.”

——

It was almost four full days before Lizzie woke up. The night before we were to board the Hogwarts Express, I had been reading Frankenstein to her, leaning my elbow on the bubble and holding the book in my other hand.

“‘Elizabeth had caught the scarlet fever; her illness was severe, and she was in the greatest danger. During her illness, many arguments had been urged to persuade my mother to refrain from attending upon her. She had, at first, yielded to our entreaties; but when she heard that the life of her favourite was menaced, she could no longer control her anxiety,’” I read, resting my head on the hand of the arm that was resting on Lizzie’s bubble.

As soon as I had discovered that Victor Frankenstein’s love interest was named Elizabeth, I got an odd feeling in my stomach. I was scared that somehow whatever happened to Victor’s Elizabeth would happen to my Lizzie, like their fates were intertwined - or they were the same person.

“‘She left me [for the night], and I continued some time walking up and down the passages of the house, and inspecting every corner that might afford a retreat to my adversary. But I discovered no trace of him, and was beginning to conjecture that some fortunate chance had intervened to prevent the execution of his menaces, when suddenly I heard a shrill and dreadful scream. It came from the room into which Elizabeth had retired.’”

The warm blood coursing through my body suddenly froze at the words and I heard Lizzie screaming. The shrill sound vaulted through the air and slammed into my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I stumbled backwards, almost tripping over my feet, and flashed my gaze around the room, expecting to see Lizzie in some horrible situation that would draw such a blood-curdling scream from her.

Voldemort torturing her.

A snatcher grabbing her by the neck.

Bellatrix carving a word into her arm.

Lucius battering her fiercely.

A green spell colliding with her stomach...

But no. Lizzie was not being tortured or killed. She was encased in a magical prison where I couldn’t reach her.

Upon regaining my composure to the best of my ability, I read on. “‘She was there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed, her head hanging down, and her pale and distorted features half covered by her hair. Everywhere I turn I see the same figure--her bloodless arms and relaxed form flung by the murderer on its bridal bier.” My voice cracked as I read of dear Elizabeth’s death and imagined Lizzie in her place, strewn across a bed, beaten and bloody, lifeless beyond reach.

It was too much for me.

I slammed the book shut and flung it across the room where it collided with one of Mother’s Italian vases which fell to the floor and shattered into thousands of tiny, green pieces. I then collapsed into a chair and held my head in my hands, digging my knuckles into my eyes.

She’ll be fine, Draco. She’ll be fine.

“Merlin,” I breathed, “I can’t-“

My voice was cut off by a muffled gasp and a dull thump. I snapped my gaze up to the bubble to see that lifeless Lizzie was gone, replaced with my Lizzie. She was rubbing her forehead and breathing rapidly, as if she had woken from a nightmare and attempted to sit up, only to meet the solidity of her bubble.

I darted to her side and put my hands on the hard surface, looking down at her confused face with eyes blurred from tears. “Lizzie!” I cried, overjoyed to see her okay. “Lizzie, you’re awake!”

She heard my voice and her confused expression turned to one of panic. “Draco?” she called, her voice muffled. She lifted her hands and put them on the inside of her bubble. Feeling the hard surface seemed to terrify her, for she began to pound on the surface. “Draco? Draco, what is this? Get me out!” she yelled, tears beginning to leak from her eyes as she thrashed around.

Knowing that no amount of physical or magical force could break this shield, I felt myself begin to panic as well. 

What if Voldemort didn’t return to release her? Would she suffocate?

It was the first and hopefully last time that I was begging for the vindictifully malevolent snake of a man to appear.

“Please!” she howled. “I want out! I need out!” Her breathing had escalated to the point of hyperventilation.   
Despite myself, I began to pelt her cage as well, hoping against hope that the force of both of us combined would be enough to free her. The thuds of our fists resounded around the room, sounding dismally like a hammer driving nails into a wooden coffin.

My hands began to scream at me to stop. I ignored them, only caring about getting my love out of this prison.

“It’s no- it’s no use!” she weeped after the skin on both of our hands was peeling off and oozing scarlet blood from the force of our punches. “It’s n-not working.”

“No! I can’t give up!” I gasped, looking around the room for something that could possibly be of use while Lizzie sobbed inside of the bubble. “Spells- chairs- What haven’t we tried? What haven’t we tried?”

I had tried Bombarda, Incendio, Confringo, Expulso, and just about every other spell that was in my brain.

I had tried using chairs, tables, my fists, my feet, rocks, and just about every other thing that I could reach.

Even though I knew what the result would be, I tried it all again, watching Lizzie flinch each time. Every time my next attempt failed, another piece of my heart chipped away.

Come on. What else could I do?

“It’s no use, Draco,” she said, pressing a hand to the inside of the shield that refused to be destroyed.

I pressed my forehead against the cool surface of her prison and licked my chapped lips. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, looking directly into her eyes, which stared back into mine with a presence of resigned fright. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Her mouth moved but with the barrier between us, I was unable to hear her voice, however, the shape of her lips formed the words, “I love you.” I nodded against the glass-like surface.

“How touching,” a slithery voice called from just beyond my shoulder, making me jump and draw my wand, pointing it to the source of the voice. “Put that away,” he snapped. It was a set of willowy, black robes with a pallid, sallow skinned man. With reluctance, I lowered my wand but kept my eyes on the person standing in front of me and making sure to keep myself between Voldemort and Lizzie.

“Let her go,” I croaked trying to be courageous but failing as my voice quivered. I guess that’s why I wasn’t sorted into Gryffindor.

Voldemort took a few timely steps towards me, closing the distance between us to two feet. I could see the wrinkles in his grey skin and smell the stench of a mixture of mud and rotting fruit. “Miss Samuels here lied to your father about Harry Potter’s identity, costing us as a chance at his life. I should have taken her life as punishment, but because I am a merciful Lord, I decided that a few days under a Horror Somnum would teach her a very solid and valuable lesson: Lord Voldemort does not take well to lies.”

I blanched at the name of the spell he used to incapacitate her, knowing what it’s effects were. “Please, my Lord,” I spoke, choking out the title. “Please free her.”

“As I stated previously, I am a merciful Lord and I shall free her,” he drawled with venom dripping from his voice, waving his wand to Lizzie’s floating confinement, which disappeared, dropping her onto the floor where I caught her and cradled her in my arms.

“Thank you, my Lord,” I grunted, looking down to Lizzie’s pale face and brushing her brown locks from her face. She looked back up with an expression of love, terror, and relief.

“Let this be a lesson to the both of you,” he hissed, before disapparating with a crack that did nothing to break the spell between the two of us.

“Merlin, Lizzie,” I whispered, tears flowing freely down my face. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She lifted a hand and brushed them away with cool fingers. “After all we’ve been through? You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

I laughed. “You’re impossible.”

“That’s my job,” she replied softly.

Slipping my arms under her knees and around her waist, I lifted her and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Let’s get you upstairs.” She wrapped her cold arms around my neck and rested her head on my chest.

Once in my bedroom, I laid Lizzie down on the bed, buried her in the blankets, and cast a warming spell on her to try and chase away the cold that was plaguing her. “I’m going to go get you something to eat and some tea, I’ll-”

“No!” she jumped up and wrapped her hand around my wrist, preventing me from leaving. Her face was petrified as she looked up at me. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged quietly.

“I won’t,” I answered, placing a hand on her face and climbing into the bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her still-cold form. “Brace yourself,” I whispered before calling a house elf up to retrieve some food and tea.

When they returned with my request, Lizzie picked at the food sparingly, a frown engraved onto her face. “Want to talk about it?” I asked, referencing her time under the Horror Somnum. 

Horror Somnum was a spell designed for torture. The victim was locked under an unbreakable sleeping spell where they dreamt the most vivid of dreams that showed them all of their worst fears in situations that are designed to tear them apart.

She shook her head. “I just want to forget about it, but everytime I close my eyes, I see- I see.” She was unable to finish her sentence and buried her face into my neck.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” I hummed, wrapping my arms her once again and gently petting her hair.

“It was you, Draco,” she whispered into my skin. “I kept seeing you. You kept dying. You-Know-Who tortured you until your heart stopped. Harry’s slicing spell in 6th year killed you. Pansy poisoned you instead of me. Bellatrix was angry at someone and killed you in her anger. You died over and over, Draco, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.” I felt her warm breath tickle my hair and her tears drop onto my skin.

“I’m here, love,” I said. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” She whimpered and squeezed me tighter.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING**  
> This chapter contains some very graphic and potentially triggering content. A character doesn't meant to, but almost attempts suicide. If this may be upsetting or triggering to you, just skip to chapter 38. You will not find any major plot holes by skipping this chapter. Thank you and my apologies.

Lizzie’s POV: 

“Liz,” Draco whispered into my hair, tickling my ear. “Wake up, Lizzie. We’ve got to get going if we’re going to make the train.”

I sat bolt upright, tossing Draco’s arms from me and gasping for air. I began to shout and reached for my wand that wasn’t there. “Where’s my wand? Where’s my wand?!” I screeched, flailing around trying to find the length of wood. 

“Lizzie!” Draco shouted, reaching out and trying to grab my arms.

I back pedaled as quickly as I could, falling on my bum and scooting away from him. “No! No! Get away from me! Get away!” I curled myself into a ball and prepared myself for the impact.

“Stop it, Lizzie! Stop! It’s me. It’s Draco!” He wrapped his hands tightly around my wrists and pulled me up.

“Draco?” I sniveled, looking into his eyes. He was terrified. “Draco, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” I enveloped him into my arms and blubbered uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry! I- I thought you were- He was going to- I’m so sorry!”

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he replied quietly. “What happened?”

“It was- y-your father. He was going to-” As I spoke, his eyes changed from worried to comprehension to a mix of anger and worry again.

“It’s okay,” he whispered darkly. “I’ll never let him touch you again.”

“I love you, Draco,” I spluttered.

With a small smile, he replied, “I love you too, but I wasn’t kidding. The train leaves in 20 minutes.” He cast a Tempus as proof.

“We should get going then,” I suggested, eyebrows furrowed.

Yes we’d be leaving Malfoy Manor where Voldemort rules unconditionally, but we’d be returning to Hogwarts where the Carrows rule unconditionally.

With a few well cast spells, our items were back in our trunks and apparating to Kings Cross Station. Somehow we managed to find an empty compartment and drew the blinds before Draco sat down and I put my head in his lap like I loved to. He looked down at me with a small smile.

He smiled at me and laughed so hard he fell over into the grass. I couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Come on, it wasn’t that funny,” I snickered, watching the way his hair sparkled in the sunlight of the setting sun. “Get up, you loser.” I lifted him up and leaned into his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck. He wrapped his around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

“Look at that,” he gaped, looking at the sunset that made the blue sky turn rich hues of pink, purple, and red.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered. Watching as the sun slid behind the horizon, turning the sky instantly dark.

“It is indeed,” a voice cackled behind us. We whirled around to see Bellatrix Lestrange with her wand trained on me. “Avada Kedavra!” A jet of green light shot from her wand and the world slowed down. I was frozen, watching the spell that would end my life getting closer and closer. 

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and instantly knew what was happening. Draco threw himself between myself and the curse, standing with his shoulders squared until the spell slammed into his chest.

His body fell into the grass, his grey eyes open and staring up into the sky, unseeing.

“Lizzie?” The real Draco pulled me from the nightmare and back into the present. I was still lying in his lap and he was staring down at me with confusion. “Hey, what was that? You just spaced out on me.”

“Oh, nothing. Sorry,” I muttered, trying to bury my anguish so he wouldn’t worry.

\-----

“Miss Samuels, Mr. Malfoy,” Alecto grinned, greeting us as we walked into the Entrance Hall. Alongside her brother, she was standing inside the doors and watching each student walk through the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall, where an undoubtedly moldy feast would be taking place to ‘welcome’ us back to school.

“Alecto,” Draco said with a nod as we passed by her. We took a seat at the Slytherin table, away from everyone else.

“What was that?” Draco questioned, nodding a head back towards where Alecto and Amycus stood, still watching students. “It was as if she-”

Draco was interrupted by Snape, who had stood from his seat at the Head Table and cleared his throat, giving a speech that we had heard many times before. “Many of you may have noticed before the Easter holiday that Hogwarts students have been disappearing. We have reason to believe that these students are still inside the castle and are assisting Harry Potter in some way. Now, if any of you are found to be withholding information, you will be punished with the utmost severity.”

His speech ended abruptly and with a wave of his hand, the moldy foods appeared, causing a chorus of groans to echo around the room.

\-----

After a few weeks of classes, I noted that the professor’s seemed more put off and touchier than usual. McGonagall had taken 10 points from Gryffindor when Seamus couldn’t transfigure a goblet into a settee. Everyone had been shocked by the event due to the fact that McGonagall hadn’t taken one point from anyone all year.

On top of that, Slughorn had almost shouted at a Hufflepuff who answered with ‘ashwinder eggs’ to the question ‘what is the sixth ingredient added when brewing Felix Felicis?’. Everyone knew that ashwinder eggs were the first ingredient added.

Even Flitwick was off. He had used Aguamenti instead of Tergeo when someone had spilled their ink, making it spray all over said student. I couldn’t name one time in my seven years at Hogwarts that Flitwick had made a mistake.

But not only the professors were being affected. I saw two Hufflepuffs fighting in the corridor, shouting about how one had dropped a book on the other’s foot. It was so intense that McGonagall and Sinstra had to step in and physically pull the two off of each other.

“Not only that, but I saw a Gryffindor try to hex a butterfly that flew too close to him,” I explained to Neville, sitting beside him in the Room of Requirement, Draco on my other side. “The tension is getting to people more than ever and I can just feel that something is going to snap soon.”

“I saw Sprout draw her wand on a student for bumping into a mandrake,” Draco drawled, his eyes following Sammy as he stood from his hammock and walked over to a group of friends in his year that he had made in the past few weeks. It warmed my heart to know that he was getting on well with the other students hiding away.

“Sprout?” Neville exclaimed, leaning around me and gaping at Draco. “She’s just about the most level headed professor there is. If she’s snapped, there’s something really wrong.”

“You’re just now figuring that out? The locking up and torture of students on top of the return of the darkest wizard imaginable who’s trying to take over the world and kill all muggles didn’t happen to make you feel like something was off?” I asked sarcastically.

“You know what I mean,” Neville muttered, leaning against the wall behind us.

“Sorry, I’m just…” I trailed off, thinking of an appropriate word.

“Tense?” Draco offered.

“Yeah. I’m just tense.”

“Aren’t we all,” Neville sighed.

“Hey, guys!” Sammy grinned, running over to us with two of his friends. “These are my friends Magda and Jeremiah. Magda, Miah, these are my friends Neville, Lizzie, and Draco. Lizzie and Draco are the ones that rescued me from the dungeons.”

Jeremiah, who Sammy called Miah, had curly black hair and brown eyes. He stood somewhat behind Sammy as if he were intimidated by us.

On the other hand, Magda, who had violently red hair that was cut into a blunt bob, looked ecstatic to be introduced to us.

“It’s nice to meet you, Magda, Miah,” Neville said with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Magda replied with an even bigger smile than Sammy’s.

“Yeah, nice to meet you,” Miah squeaked shyly.

“Do you guys want to play Exploding Snap with us?” Sammy asked, holding up the game and nodding enthusiastically towards us.

“Not right now, Sammy. We’ll come over in a little bit, is that okay?” I answered.

“Okay!” He, Magda, and Miah hurried to the other side of the room where they sat among the other second years and began to play the game.

“Anyone else think that one with the black hair looked like Harry?” Draco asked quietly. I snapped my head towards him, surprised by the use of Harry’s first name-

“Harry! Please, no!” I heard Draco pleading from Moaning Myrtle’s loo as I walked down a corridor. Draco’s tone and the way he had used Harry’s first name instead of his surname had me shoving my way into the loo, where I found Harry and Draco standing in a face off. Harry had two wands in his hand, one I recognized as Draco’s.

“What’s going on?” I demanded harshly.

“Don’t ‘Harry’ me, Malfoy!” Harry shouted, his wand pointed at Draco, who had been trapped in a corner. “You almost killed Ron and Katie! I know it was you! I know it!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I never meant to hurt anyone! He made me do it. He took Lizzie. He said he’d kill her unless I killed him!” Draco sobbed, dropping to his knees which instantly became soaked from the water that was flooding the room.

“What are you talking about, Draco? I’m right here.” Confused, I walked up to Draco and knelt by him, noticing that my knees didn’t get wet. “What?” Experimentally, I tried to put my hand on Draco’s shoulder, but my hand passed right through him as if I were a ghost.

“I don’t care if he took Lizzie!” Harry roared. “You can’t almost kill someone without being punished!” He took a few threatening steps towards Draco, making me flinch.

“I didn’t mean to, Harry! I just want to keep her safe!” Draco dropped his head into his hands and weeped even harder. 

“You’re pathetic,” he spat. “Sectumsempra!” Harry flourished his wand murderously, intent on killing Draco.

“NO!” I screamed, knowing what that spell did.

But there was nothing I could do. I watched as the light hit him in the shoulder and shrieked as I watched Draco’s shirt begin to turn red with the blood that was leaking from the slices the stretched across his abdomen. He collapsed backwards into the water, wheezing as he stared up at the ceiling blankly.

“See you later, Malfoy,” Harry sneered before splashing out of the room.

“Draco!” I shouted, trying to stop the bleeding with my hands, but I wasn’t there. I couldn’t touch him. All I could do was watch as the blood turned his white shirt scarlet and began to dye the water around him. “No, Draco. Please! SOMEONE HELP!” I dug around my robes for my wand, but couldn’t find it anywhere. “No, no, no, no!”

Draco coughed and the thick red liquid fell from his mouth, dripping down his cheek. “I- I’m sorry- Liz,” he spluttered, more blood coming from his mouth.

“Stop it, Draco! You can’t die! No! Look at me!” I tried to grip his face, but my hands went through him once again. I wailed and slammed my fist into the wall, finding that I could touch it.

His eyes began to droop and his wheezing began to slow. “SOMEONE!” I shouted, my voice hoarse. “SOMEONE HELP! HE’S DYING! Please, Draco, stay with me.”

“Help,” he muttered.

And with that final word, his chest stop moving.

“Lizzie?” Draco asked, a hand squeezing my thigh. “What was that?”

“Nothing, sorry,” I mumbled with a frown, trying to erase the image of Draco lying in a pool of his own blood from my mind.

“Nothing?” Neville asked with a quirked eyebrow. “You’re shaking like a spooked kneazle and wouldn’t answer us.” He nodded to my hands which were clenched into fists so hard that I was trembling. With difficulty, I unclenched them but couldn’t stop shaking.

“Yeah, sorry. Just spaced out for a bit,” I uttered.

“That’s the third time that’s happened this week,” Draco stated. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” I told him, my eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re lying,” Draco said, his eyes narrowed. “Your nose is twitching. What really happened?”

“I said it’s nothing, okay?” I snapped, standing up and storming to the bathroom. I slammed the door shut behind me before locking it with a spell that couldn’t be opened with a simple Alohomora and silencing the room.

Just like the last time I had locked myself in the loo, I bent over the sink. Instead of sobbing however, I screamed and slammed my fist into the mirror. I watched the shards of glass cascade to the floor and land with soft clinks. Ignoring the pain in my fist from the glass lodged inside, I punched the already destroyed mirror over and over again, until both of my hands were bleeding profusely.

“I’M SORRY!” I shouted to no one in particular. “I’M SORRY FOR WHATEVER I DID TO DESERVE THIS BLOODY LIFE!”

The image of Draco lying in the bloodied water returned to my mind and I screamed in rage. I brought my knee up into the bottom of the sink with so much force that the porcelain cracked. Similar to the mirror, I continued to kick, knee, punch, and body slam the sink until it was lying in shards on the floor beside the shards of glass from the mirror.

“I’M BLOODY SORRY!” I howled. “I DON’T WANT THIS ANYMORE! I DON’T WANT TO BE A FUCKING DEATH EATER!” I ripped my left sleeve up, revealing the skin that was inked black. Using my fingernails, I clawed at the mark, trying to get it off of me. “Get this OFF!” My skin was turning bright red, but the skull and snake were still there, mocking me.

Then I noticed the shards that were lying around my feet. I bent over and searched through the pile for the sharpest looking piece, which happened to be a piece of the mirror.

Growling deeply, I picked it up and held it so tightly that it pierced the skin of my palm, dripping blood onto the floor. I held my left forearm out in front of me, glaring down at the Dark Mark and lifting the glass shard. “You bloody fucking-”

“What the hell are you doing?” Draco shouted from the doorway, his hand on the doorknob and his eyes wide. Neville stood just over his shoulder with a similar expression.

“I’m sick of this fucking Dark Mark!” I shouted at him, noticing the tears that were gushing from my eyes. “I want it gone!” I held the glass above my head, fully intending on slamming it into the mark, but Draco rushed forward and wrenched it from my grasp, slicing his hand open as he did it. “Give it BACK!” I shrieked, reaching for the shard. Draco held it out of my reach,so I stretched out, clawing at him and demanding that he give it back.

“Neville, give me some ruddy help!” Draco yelled at the boy who, until then, had been frozen in the doorway.

He scrambled forward and put a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and flung a fist right into his nose, which began to gush blood. “Give it back, Draco!” I screamed, whirling around and trying to wrestle the glass away from him.

“Lizzie, calm down! You’re not thinking clearly!” Draco shouted, trying to keep it away from me. “Neville!”

Right as I clamped a hand onto Draco’s wrist, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me from the ground. I flailed my arms and legs desperately, trying to free myself.

“I’m sorry, Liz,” Draco said, pulling out his wand and aiming at my chest.

“DON’T YOU BLOODY DARE!” I screamed at him.

He flinched, but said, “Stupefy.”

And everything went black.


	38. Chapter 38

Lizzie’s POV:

I struggled to stifle a groan as I opened my eyes, bringing my hand up to my head and rubbing my temple.

“You’re awake,” a female voice said from beside me.

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock,” I snapped, sitting up and noticing that I was lying in a hammock in the Room of Requirement. Ginny Weasley was sitting on the floor beside me, her red hair pulled into a knot on the crown of her head. “What happened? And where’s Draco?”

“Someone had to clean up the mess you made,” she explained nonchalantly.

“What mess?” I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, trying to remember why I had fallen asleep in the Room of Requirement and what Ginny was talking about.

She pursed her lips. “I’ll go get him.”

I swung my legs over the side of the hammock and rested my head in my heads. The throbbing refused to subside no matter how much I willed it to.

What had happened? Why was everyone giving me odd looks? What mess had I made? Why did my head hurt? Why was I sleeping in the Room of Requirement?

“You’re awake,” Draco’s husky voice stated as he slid to the floor in Ginny’s place.

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock,” I repeated grumpily, lifting my face from my hands and looking at him. His expression was one of caution and sorrow. “What happened?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “You really don’t remember?” I shook my head in reply. “Me, you, and Neville were sitting over there and you just sort of… spaced out. I asked you what was wrong and-”

“And I stormed to the toilet,” I finished, remembering what I had done.

“You could have died, Lizzie,” he whispered, looking as if he were about to cry.

“I wasn’t going to- I was trying to- I was trying to get rid of the Dark Mark,” I stuttered, remembering why I had stormed off in the first place.

“If I hadn’t come in right then, you’d be dead, Liz,” he said, holding my hand in his and rubbing his thumb across my skin.

“I’m so sorry, Draco,” I choked, my eyes tearing up. “I was just sick of it. It’s ruined our lives.”

“That doesn’t mean you can do that to me,” he said firmly.

I remembered how the door was open when Neville tried to wrench me off of Draco. “How many people saw?”

“A lot,” he replied, not meeting my eyes.

“Oh, Merlin,” I heaved.

“Lizzie, what happened? Why do you keep spacing out?”

“It’s noth-”

“It is not nothing,” he snapped, making me jump. “You almost died because of it, so you need to tell me what it is. I’m no longer asking.”

I looked down at our hands which were still joined. I spoke so quietly that I could hardly hear myself when I said, “It’s the Horror Somnum. I look at you and something about your expression or something you say takes me back. I watch you die. I watched Harry kill you Myrtle’s toilet but it was like I was a ghost. I couldn’t touch you and you couldn’t hear me. Right before you stopped breathing, you whispered “I’m sorry, Liz,” and that tore me apart.” I paused a second before continuing. “I didn’t realize what I was doing, Draco. I just wanted to get my Dark Mark off.”

“Lizzie, I want you to look at me.” He lifted my chin with one hand until our eyes connected. “I am right here and I am not going anywhere. And this mark,” he turned my arm over until the ink was facing up, “is not going anywhere either. It’s a part of you just as much as your heart is, but you know what? It’s made you infinitely stronger. You are an entirely different person since your father forced this upon you, and I love you so much more because of it. You are so strong and everyone here looks up to you.”

“It’s true,” Ginny muttered from behind me. I turned my head to see her standing there, fidgeting with the sleeve of her shirt. “You started all of this, and everyone here owes their safety to you. We all look to you like our leader. I know we haven’t always gotten on the best, but I’m glad you’re okay, Lizzie.”

“No one here thinks you’re bad,” Neville said, appearing beside Ginny, and looking scared. “No one here cares about the bloody thing on your arm because we all know you didn’t choose it. We all know you are fighting for us and would do anything to kill the bloody bastard who put it there.”

“They’re right,” Seamus quipped. “Everyone in here loves you like a sister, Lizzie. Well, save for Malfoy, of course. You are as much on our side as Harry is and you are just as good, if not better. Don’t tell him I said that.” He flushed when he realized what he had said.

“Your aura is one of yellows and greens,” an airy voice spoke. It was Luna. She had returned to Hogwarts after the Easter holiday. No one knew what happened to her, she had just appeared. “You are a good person, Lizzie. I trust you with my life.”

“Lizzie?” a squeaky voice asked. Sammy had found me and was standing by Draco, looking nervous. “I know I’m only a second year, but I know what that mark means, and I knew it was on your skin when you rescued me from the dungeon. I don’t care one bit about it. I think it makes you so much braver because you have faced him so many times and everyone here quivers from just the thought of him. You’re a hero, Lizzie.”

Draco nodded and said, “See? No one cares about the mark. We all love you and would have been ruined if anything had happened to you in that toilet. Votre chagrin est notre chagrin.”

Your grief is our grief.

“I’m so sorry,” I blubbered, realizing that I was crying. “I’m so so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Liz, just… don’t scare us like that again,” Neville said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“I won’t,” I promised. “I swear it on Salazar’s grave.”

\-----

After my little scene in the toilet, life went on normally. Draco and I attended classes where Amycus and Alecto tormented students, rescued two students from an abandoned classroom on the third floor, met with Neville and Ginny to talk about plans of rebellion, and played the part of the Carrows’ spies.

I only had one more flashback from the Horror Somnum, and I had calmly talked to Draco, Neville, and Ginny about it.

Ginny began to warm up to me. After seeing my freak out, she realized that I really was on her side and that I was human like her and felt emotions like her. We played a few games of chess together over which we talked about reading. It turned out that she liked to read about as much as I do and had read a lot of the same novels as I had, even some of the muggle one’s.

Neville and I often sat in silence beside one another, just enjoying each other’s company. When we did talk, it was either about plans for the rebellion we were running or about our childhoods. Neville told me about his parents, who had been tortured into madness by Bellatrix. I told him about my mum, who had been kidnapped by Voldemort and died because of it.

Draco and I spent a lot of time together just holding one another. We slept in Draco’s dorm at night, where I came to know Blaise Zabini, the dark skinned boy who teased Draco just like me. A few times he had managed to draw a smile from me.

Sammy and I walked to Aberforth’s together every night to retrieve the food and to chat with him.

“Did you know that some pygmy puffs can change color with their mood?” he asked one night as we walked along the winding tunnel towards Aberforth, our lumpy path lit by the light of the Lumos of Sammy’s wand. Just by habit and paranoia, I wanted to keep mine free in case I needed to cast a quick spell.

“I can’t say that I did,” I replied. “You know a lot of interesting facts, don’t you?”

“Well, I read a book once with loads in it. It was almost a thousand pages long and each one had a separate fact on it,” he explained, tilting his head as if seeing the book in his mind. “My favorite is that some werewolves’ fur isn’t the same color as their hair.”

“You’re saying that if I were a werewolf, my fur when I change could be blonde?” I asked, trying not to think about Fenrir Greyback.

“It’s not all that common, but it does happen,” he stated with a nod.

“We’re almost to Aberforth’s. You should think of one that he would like,” I suggested, knowing how much Aberforth loved Sammy.

“Oh, I think I’ve got the perfect one,” he grinned.

“What is it?” I asked curiously.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” he smirked. “Or rather hear, I guess.”

I rolled my eyes and tapped my wand on the back of Ariana’s portrait.

One, two, pause, three, pause, four, five.

It was the code we had decided upon. The tapping alerted Ariana that we were here and if the coast inside Aberforth’s house was clear, she would swing open and permit us inside. If the coast wasn’t clear and, say, someone had paid him a surprise visit, she would tap back.

One, pause, two, three knocks to tell us to wait just a little while.

One, two, three, pause, four knocks to tell us to turn back and come back later.

Tonight, Ariana’s hinges creaked as she swung open and allowed us into Aberforth’s house.

“Lizzie, Sammy,” he greeted us warmly. “Good to see you. You’re a bit early tonight. The sun’s only just set.”

“We’re planning on having a game night,” I explained, waving to Ariana who smiled back at me.

“That’s wonderful. Merlin knows we could all use some fun these days,” he agreed with a nod as he collected the three potatoes and pouch of rice into a cloth that he tied shut and handed over to Sammy.

“Aberforth, did you know that slugs can grow up to six feet long?” Sammy asked, a grin stretching across his face.

“Six feet long?” he exclaimed, feigning surprise to placate Sammy. There wasn’t a thing in this world that the old man didn’t know; he was just like his brother.

“And snails have 14,000 teeth,” he stated, hoisting the bag up.

“That’s mad!” Aberforth said, bringing his hands up to his head.

“Well, we’d better get back before anyone starts to worry,” I interrupted. “Aberforth, you are more than welcome to come and join us for game night if you’d like to.”

“Yes!” Sammy blurted excitedly. “We can play chess and I can beat you again.”

I correct my previous statement: There wasn’t a thing in this world that the old man didn’t know. Except for how to beat Sammy at chess. Our little Ravenclaw was a bloody genius, especially when it came to chess.

“As much as I would love to add another strike to my losing streak, I should stay around here should anything happen. I’ve got a feeling that something will,” Aberforth muttered, flashing me a look that I couldn’t translate.

“We are always just a tunnel away if you need any help. Just send us a patronus and all of us will come running through that tunnel with wands blazing. You’re just as much family as my brother is to me, right Sammy?”

“Right,” he affirmed with a serious nod of his head.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Aberforth smiled. “Now, you get going before everyone else comes running through that tunnel with wands blazing thinking that something’s happened to you.” He waved his hands at us, ushering us into the tunnel.

“It was good to see you, Ariana,” I said, waving one last time before our feet hit the dirt. “And, as always, thank you so much, Aberforth. We are eternally grateful for your help.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied with another smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow!” Sammy exclaimed.


	39. Chapter 39

Lizzie’s POV:

When Sammy and I made it back to the Room of Requirement and scourgified the dirt from our trainers, Draco welcomed us with hugs and helped us store the potatoes and rice with the rest of our food, a pile that was dwindling more and more each day. We would run out soon and would have to resort to desperate measures to make sure that everyone here was fed.

“Hey, Sammy,” I said, patting the boy on the head and making sure to mess his hair up. “Why don’t you go set up a chess board for us? Maybe I’ll finally beat you.”

“You wish,” he smirked before going off to find the chess set. Beating people at chess was one of his favorite pastimes, and he could get quite snarky when playing, coming up with some of the most cleverly insulting game talk.

“What is it?” Draco asked, seeing the troubled look on my face and knowing something was up.

I made sure Sammy and everyone around us were well out of earshot before speaking. “Aberforth,” I frowned, hearing the old man’s voice in my mind. “When we invited him to game night, he declined saying that he was going to stay behind in case something were to happen. And he said that he had a feeling that something would happen. I don’t know about you, but if that man has a feeling that something is going to happen tonight, something is probably going to happen.”

“Did he say what he thinks will happen?” he asked, a crease forming between his furrowed eyebrows.

“No,” I answered, my frown deepening. I lowered my voice before saying, “What if that something happens here? What if the Carrows find us? Or someone else gets caught and they end up like Jamie? I don’t want anyone to go through that again.” I waved a hand to Jamie, who had been getting better and better every day since she was freed. She was now able to walk to the toilet on her own and would occasionally play a game of chess or Exploding Snap with someone.

“We’re in the Room of Requirement, which knows that we need to be free of the Carrows. They won’t find us here, love,” Draco whispered, placing a hand on my upper arm and giving me a reassuring squeeze.

“They’re bound to find out eventually. We can’t hide out here forever, I mean, I can’t believe how no one has noticed that we’re never around outside of classes. We spend all of our time in here where no one can see us,” I muttered, gesturing to the room around us. “They could grab us while we’re in classes and question us. We can only lie for so long.”

“Amycus and Alecto are about as observant and intelligent as a set of chairs. We’re safe in here, Lizzie. You need to have faith.” 

“It’s hard to have faith with such big threats looming over us,” I replied darkly.

“I know,” he said, kissing my temple and wrapping an arm around my waist. “But until something does happen, let’s try not to think about it and go play some chess with Sammy.”

“Okay,” I murmured, still paranoid, however, I let Draco lead me over to the table where little Sammy had set up the chess set. Magda and Miah were sitting on the floor beside him and chatting animatedly as he waited for us to come over. “Alright, Sammy. Are you ready to get beat?”

“The real question is if you are ready to be annihilated,” he smirked with a devious twinkle in his eyes.

“Big words for such a little bloke,” I murmured. “Pawn to E4.” One of my little, white pawns towards the center of the board slid forward two spaces and braced himself as if he were about to be attacked.

“Pawn to E3,” Sammy stated, his face suddenly deadly serious as he watched his piece move to the spot right beside mine.

The game continued on until I was two moves away from taking Sammy’s queen and winning the game when the door to the tunnel to Aberforth’s opened wide and Neville stepped through. “Hey, everyone,” he called, drawing everyone’s attention, “look who I’ve found.” He stepped to the side and three very beat up people cautiously ducked into the room.

One with bushy hair drawn back into a ponytail.

One with red hair almost touching his shoulders.

One with black hair, curly and messy as ever.

“Hello,” the one with the black hair breathed.

The room burst into cheers, everyone shouting his name and clapping with joy upon seeing their friend and saviour alive and well. He was hugging people and smiling as if there were no war going on outside our doors. 

The breath got stuck in my throat and I abruptly stood up, sending the chess game tumbling to the floor. My feet began moving, and before I knew it, I was hurtling across the room to where Harry Potter stood alongside Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

I latched my arms around Harry’s neck, hugging him so tightly he made a deep grunting noise before hugging me back, just as tightly. “You have to kill him, Harry. Please. You have to,” I whispered into his ear, his hair tickling my nose.

“I will,” he replied with a firm voice. “I swear it.”

Pulling back, I looked into his green eyes, feeling tears leaking from my eyes and dripping down my cheeks. “It’s good to see you, Harry. You too, Ron, Hermione.” I hugged the other two heroes just as I had hug Harry, beyond thankful that they were alive.

“You too,” Hermione smiled in return.

“So,” I asked, wiping my tears and steadying my voice, “what’s going on?” The room fell eerily silent, everyone hanging on for Harry’s word.

“Okay,” he spoke, looking as if he was the bearer of bad news. “There’s something we need to find. Something hidden here in the castle and it may help us defeat You-Know-Who.”

“Right,” Neville chopped with a nod, stepping forward with Luna, Cho, and Seamus trailing him. “So, what is it?”

“We don’t know,” Harry answered, his jaw clenched and lips pursed. Hermione’s eyes flashed with fear and she turned to glance at Ron, who looked just as troubled as the other two.

After a beat and with a shrug Neville asked, “Where is it?” 

Harry paused and cringed. “We don’t know that either.” He brought a hand up to his face and brought it down his face with a sigh. “I realize that’s not much to go on.”

“That’s nothing to go on,” Seamus snapped sharply, earning a glare from Neville, Hermione, Ron, and myself.

Harry, now stepping back as if knowing he wasn’t being much help and was frightened by the reaction of the group in front of him. “I think it has something to do with Ravenclaw. Erm... it’ll be small, easily concealed. Anyone any ideas?” People turned their heads and feigned expressions of concentration. No one want to let on that they had no idea what Harry was on about. He was giving us nothing to go off of and expecting us to help him find this something.

Even though he had only just returned and I was beyond happy to see him again, I wanted to reach over and punch him.

“Well, there’s Rowena Ravenclaw’s lost diadem,” a voice in the crowd called. Everyone looked around, searching for the voice but as people blocking them moved to the side, Draco’s blonde hair became visible and he began to waltz through the path towards us.

“Malfoy?” Ron gawked, surprised by Draco’s presence in a room of rebels and the fact that no one made an attempt to stop him, which made me realize that the trio didn’t know about the standing of our loyalty.

“Good to see you too, Weasley,” Draco countered civilly, stopping by my side and wrapping an arm around my waist.

“They’re on our side,” Neville explained, nodding a head towards us. “Have been since the beginning.”

“But what about-” Hermione cut Ron off with a hard stomp on his foot which made him grunt and almost drew a smile from my mouth.

“The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Hasn’t anyone heard of it?” Draco asked, looking around at the people before him, who all stared back with confusion or looked away with guilt. “It’s quite famous.”

“Well, yes,” I said troubled at the suggestion, “but it’s been lost for centuries now. There isn’t a person alive today who’s seen it.” 

The lost diadem of Ravenclaw was a tiara worn by Rowena Ravenclaw herself, and was said to be enchanted to increase the intelligence of the wearer. Rowena’s daughter, Helena, was supposedly jealous of her mother’s fame and wisdom, so she stole the diadem and disappeared with it. She sought to be cleverer and more famous than her mother. Rowena, who was very ill at the time of the theft, ordered the Bloody Baron, who was in love with Helena, to find her daughter and the diadem. When the Baron found Helena in a forest in Albania, she refused to go back with him and he killed her in rage. After seeing what he had done, he stabbed himself in remorse and wears chains as a ghost in penance. The diadem was never found.

“Excuse me,” Ron interrupted sharply. “Can someone tell me what a bloody diadem is?”

“It’s a sort of crown,” I explained, trying to ignore the way he was still staring at Draco and I like we would curse him at any second. “You know, like a tiara.”

“What’s it look like?” Harry asked, his face twisted up.

“If you’d like to see it, I could take you to the Ravenclaw common room,” Luna offered. “Rowena’s wearing it in her statue.”

“I know it’s not much of a lead, but I’m going to go with Luna to see what this diadem looks like,” Harry spoke, addressing the crowd and Hermione and Ron. “You lot stay here.” Nodding to Luna, she led him out the door.

After Harry and Luna left, the room burst into panicked voices, everyone talking over each other. Neville, Ron, and Hermione tried to get the room under control, but were failing.However, after a few chaotic moments, there was a loud slam as the door to the corridor shut rather loudly and everybody’s mouth's slammed shut and their heads turned as someone ran in. The crowd once again parted and Padma Patil stood there, breathless and flushed. 

“What is it, Padma?” Neville asked, noticing something off about her demeanor. She was breathing as if she had run all the way up here from the Great Hall and was shifting her weight from foot to foot nervously.

“Snape knows,” she answered after a moment, her breath uneven and her hands trembling. “He knows that Harry was spotted in Hogsmeade.”

The heads that had turned to Padma turned back to the front of the crowd. Neville’s face screwed up for a few moments as he thought, probably trying to come up with a plan.

He was about to speak when both Draco and I hissed, feeling the Dark Mark on our forearms burning and slithering. “Bloody hell, no,” I growled, clasping a hand down on my arm.

“What’s going on?” Neville asked hurriedly, knowing it was something to do with the marks on our arms.

“The bloody bastard knows,” I growled. “Someone’s summoned him.” Gasps of horror spread around the crowd. Swallowing the discomfort, I forced my voice to steady and spoke loudly to make sure everyone could hear me. “Listen up, all of you!” The whispers stopped at once. “This is it. This is the beginning of the battle that we’ve been waiting for. There will be Death Eaters and other fighters on Voldemort’s side coming to the castle in a matter of moments. Those of you of age that would like to stay and fight, stay. The rest of you are to go through the tunnel to Aberforth’s and get far, far away from here.”

“Get ready to put up a fight, everyone,” Neville called. “We won’t let those tossers take our castle. DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY!” He roared the last part and raised his wand high into the air.

“DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY!” everyone repeated, copying his actions.


	40. Chapter 40

Draco’s POV:

As we were preparing for the fight, more and more people began to appear through Aberforth’s tunnel. Fred and George Weasley along with the rest of the Weasley family, Dean Thomas, Lee Jordan, Remus Lupin, Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnson, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a countless number of other fighters, ready for the battle.

A few of the older kids who weren’t quite old enough to be allowed to stay ushered the younger kids through the tunnel, making sure no one was trying to stay behind.

“I don’t know about you,” Lizzie muttered beside me as she changed out of her robes and into clothes more suitable for fighting, “but I’m done playing the part of a Death Eater. I’m on Harry’s side through and through.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” I replied.

I saw Lizzie’s eyes sweep the room and land on Sammy, who was trying to hide behind a hammock. She frowned and hurried over towards him. “Hey, you,” she hummed, peeking around the hammock at him. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I want to stay and fight,” he replied defiantly. “This place is my home and there is now way in hell that I am going to let Voldemort touch it.” I marvelled at his courage and the way he used Voldemort’s name without so much as flinching.

“That’s very brave of you,” Lizzie spoke, leaning down towards him, “but I can’t let you stay. I know you are absolutely brilliant and could probably bring down half of the people in the room in a duel, but this isn’t a duel. There are going to be people here that are meaner than the Carrows and I can’t let you get hurt. You need to go home to your parents and let them keep you safe. I promise that the second we win this battle, Draco and I will come and find you.”

“I want to fight!” Sammy snapped, the childlike innocence suddenly gone and replaced with bold rebellion.

“Sammy,” I whispered, leaning down just as Lizzie had, “You have to leave. We won’t let you stay here. It’s not safe enough for you here.”

“I don’t care if it’s not safe!” the boy exclaimed, tearing up. “This is my home.”

“It’s our home too, Sammy,” I responded. “Me, Lizzie, and every other person in this castle will fight with every ounce of our being to make sure that Harry kills Voldemort. I swear it.”

“You swear it?” Sammy asked.

“We swear it,” Lizzie repeated with a nod. “As long as you swear to go somewhere that’s not here and stay safe.”

“I will,” he muttered, jumping out and wrapping his arms around our necks. We hugged him back and walked him to the tunnel, where we found Magda and Miah waiting for him.

“Run along you three,” I spoke. “And keep each other safe.” They nodded and we watched at their forms disappeared down the tunnel.

“Listen up!” Neville shouted once everyone seemed prepared and the younger kids had been evacuated. “Our number one priority is defence, right now. I have no doubt that the professors are out there casting every spell imaginable to shield the school. So we are going to go out there and help them in anyway we can. And if those bloody arseholes somehow get through the defences, we will make them wish that they had never been born.”

“There are not only going to be Death Eaters fighting us,” I called. “There are going to be other creatures that Voldemort has convinced to join him. You might run into giants, werewolves, trolls,dementors, and hundreds of other creatures. I want you all to know what you are running into and be prepared.”

“Ron and I are going to try and find Harry to see if he’s found the diadem,” Hermione announced. “You all need to run through every spell you know right now and keep them in mind as you go out there. Think of your happiest moment should you run into a dementor and keep your faith strong. I believe in every single one of you.”

“Let’s go fight us some bad guys,” Neville smirked. “DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY!”

The crowd once again roared with him and we all spilled through the door and into the corridors. The mass volume of us decided to make our way to the Great Hall, where most people would seem to convene.

We were right. The students that hadn’t hidden away in the Room of Requirement were sitting at their house tables, looking up at McGonagall who was speaking to them “Those of you who aren’t yet of age will be evacuated from the premises to a safe house, where you are to remain until further notice. If you are of age and would like to stay and fight, you may stay if you wish. Professor Sprout and Mr. Filch will be overseeing the evacuation.”

“Where’s Snape?” a girl just a few feet away from Lizzie and I who I recognized at the pug-faced Pansy Parkinson stood and shouted.

“He has, to use a common phrase, done a bunk,” replied McGonagall to the castle's great joy. The students erupted into a great cheer. “We have already placed protection around the castle, but it is unlikely to hold unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects-”

She was cut off as a slimy voice echoed throughout the hall. I recognized it at once. It was high, clear, and cold. There was no telling from where it came, for it seemed as if it were coming from the walls themselves. Lizzie tensed beside me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it rather tightly.

“I know that you are preparing to fight,” the voice hissed, drawing screams and yelps from some students. “Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.”

The voice paused, causing a silence to wrap around the necks of each student, threatening to strangle them.

“Give me Harry Potter,” Voldemort commanded, “and they shall not be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight.”

The silence surrounded us once more, but this time it was more final, telling us that Voldemort was done speaking. I noticed heads turning and followed them, seeing Harry standing in a corner, looking horrified.

Then, the same pug-faced girl who had asked about Snape stood from her table and pointed to the curly haired boy. “But he’s there! Potter’s there! Someone grab him!” she screamed. I saw Harry take a step back, scared that someone might actually turn him over to Voldemort.

“You ruddy bitch,” Lizzie hissed, releasing my hand and stepping up to Pansy. She pulled a fist back and slammed it into Pansy’s nose, who stumbled backwards, covering her now misshapen nose that was gushing blood.

“Thank you, Miss Parkinson,” McGonagall clipped. “You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch along with any other person who would wish to hand Mr. Potter over.” Her sharp gaze travelled over the crowd and lingered on the few students that stood and followed Pansy and Filch from the Hall.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had followed us down to the Great Hall from the Room of Requirement, addressed the room. “We've only got half an half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast. A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers, Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and Gryffindor, where they'll have good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile Remus, Arthur, and I will take groups into the grounds. We'll need somebody to organize defense of the entrances or the passageways into the school.”

Fred and George Weasley stepped forward and said in harmony, “Sounds like a job for us.” Kingsley nodded his approval, and I almost felt bad for whatever Death Eater wandered into their defences.

“Potter,” McGonagall called to Harry, as the adults gathered by the Head Table to split groups, “aren’t you supposed to be looking for something?”

“What?” Harry asked, as if being pulled from a stupor. “Oh, yeah!”

“Then go, Potter,” she commanded.

“Right, yeah.” All eyes followed him as he jogged from the room.

“I want to be on the front line,” Lizzie muttered, turning towards me once Harry had disappeared from view. Her face was deadly and determined. “I don’t care where they want us. I’m fighting in the front.”

“I’ll be right beside you,” I agreed with a nod.

“Listen up!” Lupin shouted, drawing everyone’s attention. “We have divided the groups up mainly by house to simplify things. Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall will take the entirety of the Ravenclaw house and half of Hufflepuff up to the towers where they will be positioned with the best vantage point. Kingsley, Arthur, and I will be taking the remainder of you and spreading you out at each entrance to the castle grounds where you will be fighting at the forefront. If you wish to be stationed elsewhere, come speak to one of us.”

Lizzie latched onto my hand and dragged me up towards Lupin as the students began to make their way to their stations. “Mr. Lupin,” she greeted him. “I’m not sure you remember me but-”

“You’re Lizzie Samuels and you’re Draco Malfoy. You’re the spies that have been helping protect the students from the Carrows,” he interrupted, nodding to us, and upon seeing our confused expressions, explained how he knew this. “I’ve been speaking to Neville.”

“That makes sense,” Lizzie spoke. “Anyway, Draco and I would like to be at the very front of the battle if at all possible.”

“That can definitely be arranged,” he replied. “Just be prepared to fight.”

“We are, sir,” I pledged. “More than anyone here.”

“Wonderful,” he chimed, as he began to lead us along with a group of about 50 others to the front entrance to the grounds, a large, black gate, which stood wide open.

I looked up at the night sky and noticed the dome shaped shield that the professor’s had placed around the castle. It’s blue transparency reminded me of the bubble that Lizzie had been trapped in over Easter holiday.

“I hope it holds,” Lizzie muttered beside me, also looking at the protective shield.

“Me too,” I whispered, low enough that she probably didn’t hear me.

We pushed our way to the front of the group until we were directly in front of the gate, standing beside Lupin, who stood with a firm grip on his wand and a stony expression on his face. “There are more coming,” he confided, not taking his eyes off of the empty grounds in front of us. “We called others in. The Smith’s, the Montgomery's, the Finnigan’s, the Burke’s, and the Cavanagh’s. We told them to bring everyone they could spare, but leave their children home.”

“We’re going to win this,” Lizzie uttered, staring ahead just like Lupin. “I can feel it.”

“All those families and more and we’re still severely outnumbered,” Lupin continued. “He’s gotten most of the werewolves, giants, trolls, vampires, and all of the dementors. We’ve got a handful of students barely old enough to be considered of age and some of their parents.”

“Numbers don’t matter,” I hummed. “It’s the talent.”

“And what you’re fighting for,” Lizzie added. “They’re fighting because they’re scared of Voldemort. We’re fighting for our home, our family, and our friends.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Lupin croaked. “Because here they come.”

Shadows began to appear from the darkness. Shapes of thousands of humans; no doubt they were a mix of Death Eaters, werewolves, vampires, and innocent wizards that were forced into this just as Lizzie and I had been. Behind the people came the trolls. The twelve foot tall humanoids were carrying weapons of all sorts. Trees that were pulled from the ground roots and all, boulders the size of their heads, and even muggle cars. Behind the trolls came the giants. They were several feet taller than the trolls and carried the same sort of weapons

“But it’s only 11:46!” someone behind us in the crowd called.

“They’ll likely wait until midnight before they attack,” Lupin replied darkly.

He was right again, for the crowd of foes stopped just close enough to be within sight, but still far enough away that we wouldn’t be able to hit them with a spell.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” Lizzie whispered, taking a step towards me.

“You should go up to the towers,” I offered. “That way you’d still be fighting but you wouldn’t be in immediate danger.”

“I’m not backing down,” she stated sharply.

“I figured.”

As the minutes until midnight ticked away, the crowd began to get restless. There was the constant sound of movement behind us as if people were shifting their weight from foot to foot. Occasionally, someone would turn and whisper to the person beside them, but for greater majority, we were silent.

And then someone’s tempus ticked 12:00.


	41. Chapter 41

Lizzie’s POV:

The tempus that Seamus had cast ticked midnight and for a moment nothing happened. All of the assailants in front of us stood still, for a beat, long enough for me to wonder if they were second guessing their allegiance, but then the man at the front of their group roared and they began to fire spells at the shield.

I flinched as the first one hit, causing the dome to shudder and making a deep rumbling noise echo around us, but it held.

Lupin turned around and raised his voice over the rumbling caused by the impact of the spells. “The shield won’t hold for long. It’s already beginning to crumble in some places,” he called pointing to an area a ways away from us where the blue shield was indeed turning orange and deteriorating. “When they get through, make sure you keep an eye on the trolls and giants and stay out from under their feet, but don’t focus all of your attention on them. They have thick skin and spells don’t affect them the same. Go for the Death Eaters. Stun them, petrify them, tie them up, but don’t kill them. They are human just like you and me who have families that care about them. Remember that you can’t deflect Unforgivable Curses, so if you see a green spell flying towards you, hit the ground and fire back as fast as you can.

“This is it, everyone,” he continued. “Up until now, it’s all been a game, but tonight it gets real. If you want to know just how real, my guess is that a lot of you will be affected in some way, shape, or form. Whether you get hit by a spell that will cause you to lose an arm, or a friend or family member loses their life, or you yourself lose your life. But there’s no sense in fretting about that because we knew this night was coming eventually. So let’s stand our ground tonight and fight with a fierceness that opens their eyes, making them realize that we are not giving up this castle. I am proud to fight alongside you brilliant witches and wizards.”

And with that last phrase, the shield gave way and Voldemort’s forces streamed through it, firing spells and yelling.

I gripped Draco’s hand and looked into his silver eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replied.

We released each other’s hands and began to launch spells.

“Protego!” I shouted, deflecting a streak of purple into the gate, which groaned but wasn’t affected. I honed in on the caster of the spell. A middle aged man with dark hair and a murderous expression. “Incarcerous!” The spell slammed into his left leg, causing him to fall onto his face as ropes wound their way around his body. One of the people running behind him tripped over his body and didn’t get up from the ground due to the Petrificus Totalus I managed to hit him with.

I noticed other Death Eaters falling from spells just like I had used on the two men, but I also saw students falling from less friendly spells. My eyes landed on Draco’s violently blonde hair and watched for a few seconds as he duelled a woman with red hair.

A troll was lumbering by was getting too close to my friends. I curled a lip and ran towards him, working a plan out in my mind. I knew that most stunning spells wouldn’t affect him, I would have to think of something else.

Remembering the story Harry had told me of how he had defeated the troll in his first year, I had an idea. Standing just to the side of the trolls path, and aiming for a large stone column across from me, I shouted, “virga funem.” A very thick rope shot from the tip of my wand and wound its way around the column. I ran around the column behind me, wrapping the rope around it and bracing myself.

The troll, being very low in intelligence, didn’t see the rope. His ankle got caught and the force of his weight and inertia pulling on the rope cracked the column and yanked me so hard that I thought my arms would be pulled from their sockets. I held on though, and watched as the dumb creature fell to the ground and rammed his chin into the stone, landing on top of two Death Eaters and a werewolf who hadn’t gotten out of the way in time.

As he struggled to stand, I cast a quick Incarcerous around his ankles and darted closer towards him. Using a well controlled Wingardium Leviosa, I levitated the trolls boulder or a weapon above his head and flinched when it landed on him with a sickening crack.

Proud of my work, but not being able to dwell on it, I turned and saw a giant about to swing a tree down on a group of students too busy duelling to fend him off. I aimed my wand at the giant’s armpit, one of the area’s of skin that were thinnest, and fired a knee reversing hex. I watched in pleasure as the giant, now too preoccupied with his backwards knees to crush anyone, fell onto his bum. Just as I had with the troll, I levitated his tree and dropped it onto his head.

I darted towards the duelling students that the giant had been about to crush and stunned the Death Eaters from behind. “Cheers, Lizzie!” Seamus shouted, kicking his now unconscious foe in the nose. I grinned at him and blocked a stunning spell flying towards me, sending it back at the perpetrator.

Wheeling around, I looked for a new victim and saw Draco dueling the same woman from before, who kept throwing spell after spell. All Draco could do was block them. He was losing… and fast.

I ran up to his side and joined into the duel, shooting spells right after she did, trying to catch her off guard. She seemed surprised by my appearance but she fought just as hard as before. “His little girlfriend coming to his rescue,” the woman grinned, hurling a spell towards me that I just hardly blocked. She then aimed towards Draco and I knew what she was doing before she did it.

I stretched a leg out towards Draco and swept the back of his legs in, causing him to slam his back on the ground as the Killing Curse flew through the air where his head had been. “Though she be but little, she is fierce!” I shouted vehemently, feeling pure rage coursing through my veins like fire. “Sectumsempra!” She narrowed her eyes and slashed her wand through the air, blocking the curse with ease.

“I’ll teach you to curse me,” she hissed, flicking her wrist and sending a spell speeding towards my legs. I leapt into the air, pulling my knees to my chest. The spell crashed into the ground behind me, causing dirt and grass to soar across the battlefield. 

Before my feet even hit the ground, she cast another spell towards my chest, and I had to flatten myself on the grass to avoid it. The breath was squeezed from my lungs, leaving me heaving on the ground as she aimed another spell at me. By this time, however, Draco had gotten back to his feet and managed to block this spell. The two of them duelled alone for a few seconds before I regained my ability to breathe properly, and then I jumped in beside Draco, casting spell after spell.

“You’re just as pathetic as your mother, Samuels,” the ugly woman jeered as a navy jet of light shot from her wand towards Draco.

“Ignore it,” Draco gritted to me, knowing that the wound from my mother’s death was still tender.

“Just as useless, too,” she grinned, trying to draw a reaction from me. “You might as well be a muggle for all that you’re worth.” The red-hot rage in my veins became white-hot. “And now the Dark Lord, who murdered your mother, is going murder you too. Just you wait.”

“Shut up,” I growled after casting an Incarcerous at her.

“Not only will he kill you, but he’ll kill your brother and your precious Draco,” she taunted with heinous smirk.

“He. Will. Not. Touch. My. Family!” I roared, punctuating each word with a Sectumsempra, but she blocked each one easily.

Her voice was deadly quiet when she said, “He already has.”

The fury that had been building inside of my chest began to boil and bubble violently until it erupted from my throat with an ear-splitting scream. A white light emanating from my chest burst forth and struck the woman down, along with every other enemy in our vicinity. Bodies collapsed to the ground all around me and those who remained standing whipped their heads towards me with wide eyes.

“Lizzie…” Draco whispered with eyes similar to those around us. 

I ran up to him and threw my arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly. “If there’s one thing being a Death Eater has taught me, it’s that not all humans are human.” I took a shaky breath before continuing. “He will not touch my family.”

“Nor mine,” Draco muttered into my hair.

\-----  
I had taken down three trolls, two giants, and countless Death Eaters before even one spell hit me. In my defense, though, it hadn’t been aimed at me. Another student had deflected the red light of an Ardenti Conscidisti and I happened to be in its path.

The spell grazed my left forearm, right along my Dark Mark, and sliced my skin open while searing the flesh there. I hissed from the pain and hid behind a crumbled piece of the castle so I could inspect the injury. A diagonal cut stretched from my mid forearm and up to the base of my hand. But the spell, which not only sliced, burned as well, and I watched as the skin around the open wound began to blister and sizzle. I cast a shaky Scourgify to clean it, a Frigus to cool the burning flesh, and a Operimentum Vulnere to bandage it.

Once the pain had subsided enough that I could cast a spell straight and fight, that’s exactly what I did, however, not only did I use magic, but I began to fight with my fists, which seemed to surprise my attackers.

I slammed my elbow into a man’s face and when he brought his hands up to his bleeding nose, I brought my knee up into his groin. When he bent over from that blow, I rammed my knee into his nose three times, and then swept his legs out from under him just as I had done to Draco, and cast a firm Incarcerous. 

I did this to four people before a streak of white-blonde hair came flying towards me. Draco, lower lip cut and bleeding profusely, grabbed onto my arm and took off towards the castle with me in tow. “What are you doing?” I shouted at him, blocking and firing spells as we ran.

“I know where the diadem is,” he answered, plowing through a man with his shoulder.


	42. Chapter 42

Lizzie’s POV:

“You do?” I exclaimed upon hearing that Draco knew the location of the diadem. “Why didn’t you tell Harry?”

“I only just realized!” he yelled as he hit a woman in the chest with a stunning spell. “It’s hidden in the castle but no one, professor or any of the thousands of students to pass through, has seen it for centuries. There’s only one place that could hide something that well.”

“The Room of Hidden Things!” 

“Exactly! And I remember seeing a tiara with a big, blue sapphire in there during last year!”

Our conversation ended there as we were drawn into a duel with three Death Eaters. We fought with a fierceness that could have rivalled that of a dragon protecting her nest. Draco took down one man with a well aimed Stupefy, and I took down the next two with an Incarcerous and a Stupefy. 

When they hit the ground, we turned on our heels and once again took off towards the castle, desperately dodging spells and bodies along our way. The quicker we got to the diadem, the quicker people would stop dying.

“Hey, Malfoy!” a familiar voice called. “Where are you headin’?”

“Vince?” I gaped, seeing the round kid running beside us with a heaving chest. I had hardly seen him since my fifth year when Draco got into a row with him and Greg.

“None of your business,” Draco snapped, giving Vincent a sharp glare as he leapt over the bleeding body of a student. My heart tugged. “Go away.”

“Why are you running like your tails’ are on fire?”

“We don’t have tails. Now piss off,” Draco shoved Vince, causing the boy to stumble a bit, but he managed to kept running beside us.

“You know where Potter is, don’tcha?” he grinned, sidestepping a large chunk of stone that had fallen from a wall of the castle. I glanced up and saw a gargantuan hole in the Charms classroom, the stone charred and crumbling.

“I said piss off!” Draco shoved Vince even harder, causing the boy to land on his bum, but he hopped right back up and fell back in stride with us.

“I want to help!” Vince argued through large gasps for air. “I’m on your side.”

“I don’t care if you bloody well are on our side,” Draco hissed. “You can go back to killing whoever the bloody hell you’ve been killing this whole time. Beat it.”

“He could help us, Draco,” I argued hesitantly as we stepped inside of the castle and ran up the Entrance Hall stairs. 

“He’s probably here as a spy,” Draco snapped back. “He’ll curse us when our backs are turned and run off to Voldemort with a stupid grin on his face.”

“Even if he is here as a spy, it’s two on one,” I pointed out. Draco gave no response, but didn’t tell Vince off again as we raced to the seventh floor.

We need the Room of Hidden Things, I chanted in my head when we neared the wall where the room was.

We need the Room of Hidden Things.

We need the Room of Hidden Things.

Vince gaped as the door to the Room of Requirement appeared in front of us and then gasped when we stepped inside. It looked just as it had last year, monotonous in size and filled to the brim with odd objects that had absolutely no meaning to us. 

When the door closed behind us, all sounds of the battle raging outside disappeared, suffocating us in a sudden silence. “Lead the way,” I whispered to Draco, my voice raspy.

The only noise as we walked through the piles of rubbish were our ragged breaths and our footsteps, until Draco murmured, “It’s right up here,” knowing exactly where we were going as he lead us through twists and turns, before we turned a corner and saw Harry studying something in his hand. 

“Harry,” I breathed, smiling at the beaten up and bloody boy. “Looks like you beat us to it. We were just coming to get that for you.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry replied, furrowing his eyebrows at Vince. “Found it.”

I had begun to walk towards him when Vince fired a red spell in Harry’s direction utterly missing and slamming it into a small statue of a centaur that instantly shattered. “Vince, I swear to Merlin I will kill you,” I snarled viciously, wheeling around and pointing my wand at his chest. The boy’s face turned to one of fear before he took off away from us. “That bloody prick,” I growled. “I’m so sorry, Harry. He said he was on our side.”

“Well,” Draco said, looking at me, “I don’t feel bad at all when I say-”

He was cut of by two pairs of pounding feet as Ron and Hermione came hurtling around a corner, looking as if they had seen an army of dementors. “Crabbe set the bloody place on fire!” Ron roared, not pausing at all to tell us. Harry took off after Ron and Hermione, and Draco grabbed my arm, trying to pull me in the same direction, but I planted my feet.

“What about Vince?” I asked, looking towards the direction that Ron and Hermione had come from and seeing an orange light flickering.

“He’s a traitor!” Draco shouted at me, trying again to pull me away, but I wasn’t budging.

“We can’t just leave him here to burn to death!” I argued, yanking my arm out of his grasp. “Do you remember Jamie?” The girl’s screams echoed in my ears, blending with the sound of more masculine screams. 

Vince.

He was screaming bloody murder.

“Crabbe isn’t Jamie!” Draco snapped. “He tried to hex Harry! He was going to bring him to Voldemort and damn us all! I think he deserves to burn!”

“Draco,” I hissed, giving him a dirty look.

“Fine!” he shouted, throwing his arms in the air. “Fine! But if we die for him, I’ll bloody kill you.” I gave him another glare before jogging in the direction of the fire, following Vincent’s screams. The air got considerably hotter as we neared him and the smoke was thick enough to choke us.

“He’s not here!” Draco shouted over the roaring of the wall of fire just in front of us. “We need to get out of here!” He latched his fingers around my wrist and tried pulling me away from the fire, but I stood my ground.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I watched the flames form the shape of a phoenix and rise up into the air before slamming down into one of the piles of rubbish. The mountain exploded with a thundering boom that echoed around the room. Of course the bloody tosser had used Fiendfyre.

“Wait, do you hear that?” I asked, turning my head from side to side to try and find the source of the noise I had heard.

“Hear what?” Draco snapped, still tugging on my arm.

“It’s Vince!” I exclaimed, running around the corner and coming face to face with a flaming snake. It slithered towards us and slammed into a very large bookshelf, causing it to burst into flames. “Vince!” I called, searching for the boy. “Vincent where are you?”

“Up here!” he answered from above us, his voice thick and tremulous.

Draco and I stared up to see him hanging onto the side of a table that was sticking out halfway up a mountain of items. “Bloody hell, Lizzie! Climb!” Draco shouted, herding me towards the pile Vince was hanging off of as a fiery grindylow soared towards us.

I choked on my breath and followed Draco’s command, climbing up with quick movements. I held my wand between my teeth and made sure to grab onto only items that were solidly held in the pile.

We climbed and climbed and climbed until we were level with Vince and then climbed some more. Our guttural coughs shook our bodies, almost tossing us from our handholds, but somehow we kept climbing.

Before I could say anything to warn him, Vince grabbed onto the leg of a chair that was only resting on the pile. He lost his footing with a squawk and fell backwards, plummeting into the fire that was creeping its way up the rubbish. I screeched, my voice hoarse from the smoke and almost fell myself, but Draco wrapped a hand around my wrist and held me up. “Keep climbing,” he spoke flatly.

When we reached the top, we latched onto the table there and held on, helpless.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” I wheezed after pulling my wand from my mouth and tears leaking down my face. Turning my head, I saw Draco’s terrified face that was caked in soot. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have trusted him. I’m too ruddy trusting.”

“Don’t apologize,” he responded quietly, his voice also raspy. “You were being kind. That’s nothing to apologize for- wait. Is that Harry?” His eyes focused on something a ways in front of us.

There were three figures soaring through the smoky air on brooms.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

“Harry!” I shouted, trying to make my voice louder than the fire below us. “Hermione!” Draco joined in, yelling to get their attention, but the smoke had damaged my voice, and I couldn’t get it loud enough to catch their attention.

They didn’t hear. They just continued to soar towards the door. Getting further away from us with each second.

“Draco, send up sparks.” I commanded, lifting my wand to my throat and casting a Sonorous. “Harry!” I shouted, my voice multiplied. “Ron! Hermione! Help us! Please!”

Hermione seemed to hear my yelling and turned her head. Upon seeing Draco’s sparks in the air, she shouted to Harry and Ron and immediately turned her broom around, flying towards us. I began to sob in relief.

When they got near enough to us, Draco and I held our arms up. Harry clamped onto Draco’s wrist and swung him up onto his broom behind him. Draco’s arms wrapped around Harry’s waist tighter that anything, and he locked his eyes on me to make sure I got up too.

Hermione grabbed my arm and tried to do the same as Harry, but my sweaty hand slipped from hers and suddenly I was falling…

Falling…

Falling…

My stomach leapt up into my throat, making me seem lighter than air.

My arms flailed.

The world flew by in a blur. 

My eyes latched onto Draco’s.

I faintly heard yelling.

My own?

Draco’s?

Hermione’s?

I braced myself for the pain, knowing that any second the heat would engulf me.

The flames would lick my skin.

The ground would greet me with a hard slap.

I closed my eyes.

Waiting…

Falling…

My stomach slammed back into my abdomen, and the feeling of weightlessness disappeared as gravity tugged on my body.

I opened my eyes.

Red hair.

Ron had caught me.

I wrapped my arms around him as we flew through the air beside Harry, Draco, and Hermione. Draco was sobbing. I smiled as I thought about how he would feel later when he realized he had let Harry hear him crying.

We hurtled through the doors and landed roughly on the ground. Hermione shouted Harry’s name and threw him something ivory that he drove down into the diadem. A high pitched screaming filled the air around us as the diadem began to steam a thick, black smoke. Ron ran up to the diadem and kicked it through the door of the Room of Requirement before he and Harry pushed it shut with all of their might.

Draco was suddenly the only thing I saw. He held my face in his hands as tears left trails through the soot on his face. “Lizzie? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine,” I replied, bringing a hand up to his face and wiping at his tears. “I’m fine, Draco.”

“Thank Merlin,” he sobbed, engulfing me in his arms. “Thank Merlin.”

“Don’t thank Merlin,” I breathed, hugging him back, still slightly in shock. “Ron was the one who caught me.”

Draco pulled back from our embrace and turned his head towards Ron. “Thank you, Weasley,” he nodded hesitantly, his voice cracking slightly. Ron nodded back, surprised at Draco’s newfound civility.

I stood and walked up to Ron with a small smile. He had his hands shoved into his pockets and was blushing so that his face almost matched his hair. “Thank you, Ron,” I whispered into his ear, hugging him. 

He hugged me back rather awkwardly, and replied, “Yeah. You’re welcome.”


	43. Chapter 43

Draco’s POV:

“Do you know what this means?” Granger asked Harry after Lizzie returned to my side from hugging Weasley. I wrapped an arm around her waist, vowing to never let her go again.

“Erm-” Harry stuttered looking at her confusedly.

“This means that if we can get the snake, it’ll be just him,” she breathed with an intense expression. “We’ve almost finished it, Harry.”

“The snake…” Harry frowned.

“Where do you reckon it’ll be?” Weasley questioned.

“If you’re talking about Voldemort’s snake, there’s no doubt it’ll be right by his side,” Lizzie inputted, looking between the three standing in front of us. “I mean have you ever seen the two of them apart?” Harry and Granger made eye contact, their eyes dark.

“How’re we to get it then?” Weasley frowned, looking just like Harry, but then Granger screamed.

A monstrous spider the size of a muggle car was trying to climb through a hole in the wall. Weasley and Harry both shot a spell at the creature, blowing it backwards, its legs twitching as it fell.

“It brought friends!” Harry shouted, pointing down the corridor to where more enormous spiders were climbing through a window. He fired a stunning spell, nailing the frontmost spider and knocking it over. But the other just kept pouring through the side of the building. “We need to move, NOW!”

“Harry!” Granger shouted as we began to sprint down the corridor. “Harry! You need to find out where he is! Look inside of him!”

Harry closed his eyes and stopped running, just about causing Lizzie to plow into him. I harrumphed and spun around, attempting to stop the spiders from reaching us by firing spell after spell at them. Lizzie caught on and followed my lead. Between the two of us, we managed to hold them off as Harry did whatever it was he was doing behind us.

This continued for a few solid minutes until Harry gasped and hissed, “He’s in the Shrieking Shack! The snake’s with him, it’s got some sort of magical bubble around it.”

“Oh bloody fucking hell,” I growled, drawing the attention of the three. “Sorry. I’m familiar with that bubble spell and there is no breaking it. That snake isn’t going to be going anywhere unless Voldemort himself lets it out.”

“Voldemort’s- he’s in the Shrieking Shack?” Granger screeched, outraged. “He’s not even FIGHTING?”

“He doesn’t think he has to fight,” Harry sighed, carding a hand through his curls. “He thinks I’ll come to him.”

“Is there anything we can help you guys with?” Lizzie asked, glancing nervously at the spiders that were getting nearer too quickly.

“I don’t think so,” Granger scowled, looking at the spiders as well. “This is something Harry has to do, and if Harry has to do it, we have to do it.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Unless you’ve got the Sword of Gryffindor,” Harry huffed as if this was a familiar problem for him.

Lizzie shook her head with a frown. “Sorry.”

“In that case, you guys should go fight,” Harry suggested. “We need every fighter we can get.”

Lizzie stepped forward and hugged each of the three heroes. “Stay safe, you guys,” she muttered. 

“You too,” Harry replied.

And that was that. Lizzie and I hurtled through the castle, stunning Death Eaters left and right, until we rounded a corner and came face to face with Antonin Dolohov. “Ahh,” he grinned. “I heard you two had changed sides. Your father is quite disappointed in you, Lizzie.”

“Don’t talk about my father,” she growled, throwing a stunning spell at him.

He blocked it easily, sending it into a nearby portrait that had been abandoned long before the battle had begun. “He misses you quite a bit, you know.”

“I don’t bloody care.” She launched a disarming spell.

He blocked it easily. “Said he doesn’t care you’ve changed sides. He’ll still welcome you back with open arms.”

“I said don’t talk about my FATHER!” she shouted throwing another stunning spell.

It was then that I joined in, firing spell after spell at the arsehole. He cackled and blocked every single one, managing to shoot some back at us. But he missed one and it caught him in the thigh. His body snapped straight as a board and he fell face forward onto the ground. After landing a solid kick to the man’s side, we ran down the stairs until we reached the Entrance Hall.

More spiders were trying to force their way into the castle and spells were flying everywhere. I saw Padma Patil lying on the ground in a pool of blood and her sister sobbing over top of her. I was about to go help her when I felt the temperature plummet and grabbed Lizzie’s hand, dragging her out the door past the spiders.

“Teach me how to cast a patronus,” I desperately said to Lizzie, seeing the shadows of the dementors nearing the castle out of the corner of my eye.

“Now?” she asked, following my gaze to see the dementors as well.

“What better time?” I replied. Gooseflesh erupted along my skin from the plummet of the temperature as they got nearer. “Anytime now!”

“Erm-” she spluttered, a bit flustered. “Think of your happiest possible moment and then say Expecto Patronum. It’s got to be a really, really strong memory or it won’t work.”

I closed my eyes and dug through my memories, looking for the one memory that would form a patronus.

The curls. The compass. The ball.

I reached down and laced my fingers with Lizzie’s, lifting my wand and glowering at the creatures. “Expecto Patronum.” 

Either I was a very talented wizard, or that particular memory was very effective because a silver wolf leapt from my wand and bounded towards the dementors, leaving a wispy trail in its wake. “Draco!” Lizzie exclaimed gaping at me. “You- you did it! On your first bloody try!”

I beamed and watched my wolf, but it began to flicker from the sheer numbers. “Hurry,” I rushed out, “you cast yours too. It’s not enough.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Lizzie raise her wand and followed the hippogriff that burst forth as it soared towards my wolf and landed beside it, holding its wings out so as to make itself bigger. “It’s still not enough,” she frowned.

“How about a few more, then?” an airy voice called as a few students stood by our side. Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Ernie McMillan, and Aberforth planted their feet beside us and cast their own spells with firm voices. A hare, fox, phoenix, boar, and goat charged towards the dementors, which began to waver.

“There’s still too many!” Ernie cried, noticing how the dementors began to push against our silver creatures.

“Come on,” I gritted, willing my wolf to stand his ground. He folded his ears against his head and bared his teeth at the dementors. The other animals followed his lead and made themselves more intimidating. Lizzie’s hippogriff reared up on its hind legs, flapping its wings and slashing its claws. Finnigan’s fox folded its ears back just as my wolf had and bent low to the ground, ready to pounce.

The dementors stopped advancing but didn’t retreat.

Finnigan’s fox disappeared with a flash of silver and a shout from the boy.

That was all the dementors needed to press forward once again.

“Seamus!” Thomas shouted urgently. “Get it back out there!”

“It’s not- It’s not working!” Finnigan cried. 

Ernie’s boar went next.

“Keep thinking about your memory!” Lizzie yelled through clenched teeth. “Focus on the feeling of happiness you felt! Seamus, Ernie! Focus!”

“I can’t stop feeling them!” Ernie grunted. “They’re- It feels hopeless.”

“You can do it,” Luna hummed as if they were back in the Room of Requirement for Dumbledore’s Army and this were only a practice. “That’s right. Think of something happy.”

Somehow, Luna’s voice calmed the boys and helped them focus, because their boar and fox reappeared and joined the line of silver protectors in front of us. But not only those two appeared. An otter, frog, stag, horse, and dog leapt over our heads as a voice behind us called, “Need a little help?” Granger, Neville, Harry, Ginny, and Ron had joined our forces and had sent their patronuses bounding towards the army of dementors, who began to quickly withdraw, scattering into the now mild night. 

One by one, the patronuses disappeared now that they had served their purpose. “Can’t thank you enough,” Finnigan spoke. “You just saved us.”

“Harry,” Lizzie interrupted, “don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Heading there now,” he replied with a nod as he took off, Weasley, and Granger trailing him.

“Good luck!” Liz cried after them as those who had battled the dementors spread out to continue fighting elsewhere. She turned to me and was about to say something, but was interrupted by an ear-splitting roar as a giant came stamping towards us. “Here’s the plan,” she shouted, tugging me out of the creature’s path. “We trip it then drop something on its head. It’s worked for me several times tonight. There’s no reason it shouldn’t work now.”

“How do we trip it, though?” I asked.

“We tie a rope around-” She looked at the grounds before us and realized that there was nothing to tie a rope to. “Bollocks.”

“New plan,” I hissed, watching the thing stomp towards the still raging battle. “We throw spells at its face until one hits its eye or flies into its mouth. Those are the weakest parts of its body.”

“Works for me,” she replied, darting from our hiding spot and firing a stunning spell at its enormous stomach to catch its attention. The giant stumbled backwards and turned its head, looking for its attacker. “Down here, pea brain!” It saw Lizzie and yelled, beginning to thunder towards her.

I ran to a place a few metres away from Lizzie and began launching spells at its face, missing each one. “Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” I landed a shot on the big lump’s nose, which audibly cracked and began to bleed.

“Ow?” The giant lifted a sausage of a hand to its face and felt the blood, which seemed to make it immensely angrier. It scrunched its face up and screamed at us, flinging specks of spit the size of doors at us. One barely missed my head and splashed just behind me. I resisted the urge to gag.

“Incarcerous!” Rope shot from Lizzie’s wand and wrapped around the giants ankles, causing it to stumble. The ropes easily tore apart, but the giant still fell to the ground with a thud.

As it began to try to get back to its feet, I rushed forward and sent a stunning spell flying straight into the great brute’s eye. The giant fell back to the ground, cracking the side of its head on the grass.

“Nice one!” Lizzie shouted, punching me on the arm.

“Thought he’d never go down,” I muttered.

“Thank Merlin for-”

“You have fought valiantly,” a high and cold voice hissed, echoing through the air. Lizzie flinched and reeled back, searching for the man and realizing he wasn’t actually here with us. “Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.

"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you,” he spoke, his voice hardening at the boy’s name. “You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

The sounds of the battle ceased as Death Eaters and giants alike fled into the Forbidden Forest at Voldemort’s commands.

“He’ll do it,” Lizzie whispered, aghast. “He’ll go into the forest. I know it.” She looked at me in horror, and, as much as I wanted to reassure her, I knew she was right. Harry was a hero and Voldemort’s words would have driven a dagger into his heart, making him realize that the snake was right and he has allowed people to die for him.

Instead of trying to argue against her statement, I pulled her into my arms. “Let’s get inside.” She nodded into my shoulder, and we followed the crowd of people streaming into the eerily quiet castle.

The Entrance Hall was stained with blood, and emeralds from the Slytherin hourglass were scattered across the floor along with chunks of stone that had been blown from the stairs and walls. My eyes studied the damage with pain. Hogwarts was being torn apart. This castle, which had been my home for the last seven years, wasn’t going to exist by morning at this rate.

Inside the Great Hall, the House tables had been vanished. The injured were being treated by Madam Pomfrey up on the platform where the Head Table used to reside. Survivors stood in groups along the walls, their arms around each other and tears streaming down their faces. But, worst of all, the dead rest in a row down the center of the room, their bodies surrounded by weeping friends and families. 

I found the Weasley’s huddled around a red-headed form lying on the ground. 

It was one of the twins.


	44. Chapter 44

Lizzie’s POV:

Draco and I paused in the doorway of the Great Hall and took it all in.

All of the House tables were gone, moved to Merlin knows where, opening the room up to make room for the congregation of those who had fought.

Up where the Head Table used to be, Madam Pomfrey was tending to the severely wounded. I saw Ernie Macmillan holding his bloodied arm to his chest and looking scarily pallid as he stared blankly at the wall in front of him.

Around the walls, those who had battled and come out nearly unscathed stood in groups where they hugged and kissed their friends and family through their tears. I saw Luna speaking to her father, a man who looked just like her with the blonde hair and starry eyes.

The part that really took a piece of my heart away was the row of the dead stretching down the center of the room. There were families sobbing over top of the bodies of their lost loves and friends silently crying as they tried to soothe the family members.

But the part that tore a piece of my heart away and sent it up in flames was seeing a family of red headed people that could only be the Weasley’s huddled around someone lying in the row of the dead. One of the twins was kneeling at the head of their other half, weeping as if they’d never be happy again. The woman who had to have been Mrs. Weasley was draped across the boy’s chest shaking violently. Ron was kneeled by the sobbing twin and crying with him. Hermione was beside Ginny, an arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulders, crying silent tears as she watched those in front of her. Harry stood behind the family, looking horrified.

I zoned out the rest of the Hall and hurried towards the curly haired boy, Draco following close behind me. “Harry,” I muttered upon approaching him. “Harry, you can’t. I know what you’re thinking and you can’t.”

He turned his glazed over gaze towards me, tears leaking down his face. “But Remus and Tonks and… and Fred.” He darted his eyes back towards the young man lying on the floor.

“I know,” I replied, placing a hand on his shoulder, “but they knew what they were risking when they came to fight. They wanted to end this war once and for all.”

“They died because of me,” he gruffed.

“Harry,” Draco spoke from beside me, stepping towards Harry and pursing his lips, “I hate to break it to you, but this war isn’t just about you. I mean, sure you’re the Chosen One and the Boy-Who-Lived and all that, but everyone here is fighting for their friends and their families, so that they can have a better future. Free of Voldemort.”

Harry stared at us blankly, not absorbing our words. His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he were about to say something but decided against it. “I need to see Dumbledore,” he murmured at last, stepping away from us and running from the Great Hall.

“Draco,” I whispered, a single tear falling from my eye as I watched Harry disappear into the Entrance Hall, “if he dies, what will we do?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, gripping my hand. “Let’s go see who’s survived.” I nodded, wiping the tear away and letting Draco lead me as we walked around the circumference of the room, searching faces.

I saw Lavender Brown laying on the ground, dead. Her throat torn to bloody shreds.

I saw Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan sitting beside Aberforth, their faces screwed up in sorrow.

I saw little Colin Creevey among the dead, his skin and robes scorched as if he had been burnt.

I saw Neville beside Luna, staring at the dead with blank faces.

I saw Padma Patil, another twin, laying dead, her face bruised as she had been punched.

I saw Ernie Macmillan now wandering the room as we were, his arm bandaged.

“There’s so many people,” I uttered, my eyes once again drawn to the Weasley family, still sobbing over Fred. Ron and Hermione gone now. “So many families who lost pieces of their hearts over this.”

“I know,” Draco replied quietly, giving my hand a squeeze. “Wait… is that- is that Grayson?”

I snapped my eyes away from the Weasley’s and followed Draco’s gaze to see a sandy haired man sitting in a corner, nervously watching each person that walked past him as if they would jinx him. Allowing my legs to move, I sprinted through the room, dodging survivors and dead alike, and when I finally reached my brother, I slid to my knees in front of him and encased him in my arms. “Grayson!” I croaked, my voice giving out on me

“Ooof,” he grunted before hugging me back. “It’s good to see you too, Squirt.”

Holding his face in my hands, I studied him to discover that he was hardly injured. There was just a purpling bruise above his right eyebrow and a small cut on his chin. “What’re you- What are you doing here?” I demanded breathlessly, staring into his dark green eyes and seeing the terror there. “Why aren’t you at home?”

“I heard V-Voldemort was heading to the building where my baby sister was,” he explained, stuttering on the name, “I wasn’t about to just sit around.”

“You fought?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowed.

“I killed a troll,” he replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You fought for us?” I gaped.

“You made me see reason,” he nodded. “And then when I got here and saw all these- these kids fighting… that was the last straw. I started hexing Death Eaters left and right.”

“Oh, Grayson,” I gushed, hugging him again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair, his warm breath tickling my neck. “I should have listened to you from the beginning.”

“Yeah,” I responded. “Yeah, you should have.”

\-----

Draco and I sat beside Grayson for the remainder of the hour that Voldemort had provided. No words were spoken between the three of us, but none were needed. We understood each other enough to know that what we needed was the silent company. We were covered in blood, soot, and sweat but didn’t care. Draco and I sat in each other’s arms, drinking in the presence of the other. I kept a finger pressed into his wrist, feeling the pulse pounding there. It kept me calm, reassuring me that we had made it through.

I had almost been drawn into the arms of sleep as the sun had finally began to peek over the horizon when a shout from the courtyard startled me.

“NO!” Anyone could tell that it was McGonagall. And just through that one word, I felt the anguish of a thousand lives. Felt her heart break, felt my heartbreak, felt hundreds of hearts break.

I never imagined that such a noise could come from the woman.

People in the Hall began to stream through the doors, toward the source of McGonagall’s cry. Draco and I followed without question, shoving our way through the crowd. I had to see what it was that would draw such a cry from such a strong woman.

“No!” Hermione’s voice called from up ahead, just as anguished as McGonagall’s, which made me shove through the crowd faster, not caring about the people who gave me dirty looks.

“Harry! HARRY!” Ginny screamed, her voice echoing through the air and slamming into my chest.

When I breached the front of the crowd, the remainder of the broken heart in my chest shattered irreversibly into millions of little shards.

Grouped in front of the defenders of Hogwarts were the Death Eaters, and in front of them stood Voldemort in his billowing black robes that contrasted greatly with his white skin and red eyes. His face was drawn into a smile of victory because beside Voldemort stood the giant form of Hagrid, our gamekeeper, who was holding a person.

A person in a grey shirt and jeans.

A person with curly, black hair.

Harry.

“NO!” I screeched, collapsing into Draco’s arms. He wrapped his arms around me and kept me from falling to the ground below as hot tears began to stream down my face from the death of my friend and only hope at freedom.

Harry, the boy who had shared the scar on the back of my hand.

Harry, the boy who was willing to befriend me when no one else would.

Harry, the boy who was among the two students to visit me when I had poisoned.

Harry, the boy who taught me to cast a patronus.

Harry, the boy who showed me the Room of Requirement.

Harry, the boy who let me join Dumbledore’s Army when no one else wanted me there.

The crowd began to shout and scream at Voldemort and his followers, torn apart by the death of their savior and sobbing with me. None of their voices reached my ears though. Voldemort had won.

“SILENCE!” Voldemort cried, shooting a red spell into the sky that exploded with a bang, stealing the voices of all in the courtyard. “It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs.”

Draco’s arms tightened around me as the half-giant hobbled forward and gently set Harry’s body at Voldemort’s feet. I could see him blubbering and wiping tears from his face as he backed away from Harry’s still form.

“You see?” Voldemort shouted with vehemence. “Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

“He beat you!” Ron shouted venomously, just a few feet away from me. 

This seemed to break the spell and suddenly the people around me were shouting and screaming at the Death Eaters once again, until another, even more powerful explosion silenced them.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort, sneering as he paced in front of us, “killed while trying to save himself.”

Neville gave a great roar and ran at Voldemort, wielding his wand as if it were a sword. I flinched as Voldemort disarmed Neville with a simple flick of his wand. “And who might you be?” he cackled. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

I heard Bellatrix laugh maniacally before stepping forward. “It’s Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The son of the Aurors!” Neville winced at the mention of his parents.

“Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort, sneering at the boy who was standing in the no-man's-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" 

“So what if I am?” Neville shouted in reply, jutting his chin into the air.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom,” Voldemort hissed as he studied Neville, who was standing with his fists clenched into tight fists at his sides.

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," said Neville, spitting at Voldemort. "DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY!" he shouted, the crowd taking up his cheer and yelling it back.

“As you wish,” Voldemort drawled, narrowing his red eyes at Neville. “If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it." He raised a sickly hand and an object looking like a large bird flew through a window of Hogwarts, landing in his hand.

The Sorting Hat.

“There will be no more sorting of students at Hogwarts,” he shouted, holding the ratty hat in the air. “There will be no more Houses. The sign of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice everyone. Won't it, Neville Longbottom?" He stalked up to Neville, and forced the hat onto his head so that it covered his eyes. "Neville here is going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, the Sorting Hat on top of Neville’s head burst into bright orange flames.

The sounds of hundreds of screams vaulted through the air. Neville was aflame and stood unmoving in his spot.

“Neville!” I shouted through my sobs, trying to wrestle out of Draco’s arms which were now holding me back instead of comforting me. “Neville!”

Seemingly pulled from his Body Bind curse, Neville pulled the flaming lump of cloth from his head and reached into its depths. He drew out a length of gleaming silver dotted with rubies and slashed it through the air, slicing the head of Voldemort’s snake off in one clean stroke. As the head of the creature soared through the air, Voldemort’s mouth opened in a scream that could not be heard over the roar of the crowd. 

However, one voice rang out loudly above the chaos. “HARRY!” Hagrid shouted, darting his gaze around the courtyard. “WHERE’S HARRY?” I looked to the space where Harry had been lying only moments before to discover that the grass where he had been was deserted, and my heart began to race.

Thestrals and hippogriffs suddenly soared through the air as if drawn by Hagrid’s shout and dived down on the Death Eaters, scratching at their faces, forcing them inside the castle. Draco latched a hand around my wrist and hauled me into the castle as well, stunning Death Eaters along the way, their bodies being trampled by the retreating crowd. We saw Voldemort backing through the doorway of the Great Hall, firing spells into the crowd and shouting commands to his followers.

Centaurs came galloping through the door, shooting arrows into the Death Eaters with perfect aim and clobbering them with their hooves. House elves followed them, swarming into the Hall and screaming in their small voices while wielding cleavers and pans. They began to hack and slice away at the legs of Death Eaters, who screamed and started to fold from the numbers. They tried to escape back from where they came, but were swallowed by the crowd.

Voldemort was in the center of the Great Hall, striking down everyone within his reach.

And Draco and I began to fight.

We fought back to back, throwing jinxes and hexes at everyone who came near us and making sure no one snuck up on each other. I hit Fenrir Greyback in the face with a Body Bind and he fell to the ground where he was swarmed by enraged house elves. His screams were swallowed by the clamor of the battle.

I blocked a bright yellow spell that would have slammed into Draco’s side and sent it soaring towards the ceiling, turning towards the source to find none other than my father. “You-” I hissed, and began to fire all of the nastiest jinxes I could think of at him, fighting more savagely than ever, lit by a fiery hate for the sneering man in front of me. 

The Bat Bogey Hex.

Engorgio Skullus.

The Horn Tongue Hex.

The Knee Reversal Hex.

Entomorphis.

The Pus Squirting Hex.

The Sardine Hex.

As I hit him in the chest with a jinx that made his teeth grow and then shot a stunner at him in his shock, I heard a roar of a familiar voice that made me whirl around, jaw on the floor.

All side duels came to an abrupt end as Harry and Voldemort began circling each other in the center of the room. "I don't want anyone else to help," Harry shouted, his voice easily carrying through the silent room. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

“He doesn’t mean that,” Voldemort hissed, his red eyes wide. "This isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," Harry spoke simply, holding his wand up at Voldemort. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. And neither can live while the other survives. One of us is about to leave for good...."

Voldemort laughed stiffly. “One of us? You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?" He spat the previous headmaster’s name with such venom that I almost expected Harry to fall over.

“An accident that my mother died to save me?” Harry questioned, the crowd frozen as it they had been Petrified. No one seemed to be breathing but the two of them. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard three years ago? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and I still survived and am here to fight you?"

“Accidents!” Voldemort screeched in rage, but he didn’t lash out. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," Harry snapped. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people.”

“But here you are!”

“I meant to give my life for them, and that’s what did it. Just as my mother died for me. They’re protected from you. Haven’t you noticed how none of your curses have been holding? You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

“You dare-” he seethed.

"Yes, I dare," said Harry, using a voice that made people believe that Harry might’ve been a dark wizard. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

"Is it love again?" Voldemort jeered. "Dumbledore’s favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him from falling from the tower and breaking like old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter, and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

“Just one thing,” Harry replied.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," Voldemort sneered, still circling with Harry, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

“I believe both.”

I saw shock flash across the snake’s face before he cooled his features, and he laughed. It was the type of laugh that could freeze blood and crumble mountains. "You think you know more magic than I do? Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh he dreamed of it," Harry answered, "but he knew more than you do, knew enough not to do what you've done. He was a brilliant wizard you could never compare to."

"He was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you. A better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did, but you were wrong,” Harry countered as the hundreds of people around him drew breath as one like they believed that Dumbledore wasn’t actually dead.

"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort shrieked, "I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

Harry gave a small smile. “Yes, he is dead. But he didn’t die by your hand. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

“What are you talking about?” Voldemort hissed.

"Severus Snape wasn’t yours," Harry disclosed. "Snape was Dumbledore's. Dumbledore's from the moment you starting hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Voldemort did not answer.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized. He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

“It matters not!” Voldemort roared, his nostrils flaring. 

"That wand in your hand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person,” Harry scoffed. “Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

“He killed-”

“Aren’t you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between the two of them! Dumbledore intended to die, undefeated, the wand's last true master to keep you from possessing it! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against the last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. The wand chooses the wizard... The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance..."

I flashed back to that dark night on the Astronomy tower, seeing Dumbledore leaning on the railing in front of me, his wand lying on the floor feet away from him.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy,” Harry announced cooly. 

Voldemort almost flinched, but he recovered quickly. "But what does it matter? Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference. After I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy..."

I tensed and stepped between Voldemort and Draco, vowing not to let the demon near him.

“You missed your chance,” Harry spoke. “I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took his wand from him."

I flashed back to the day that Harry had appeared at Malfoy Manor over the Easter hols and saw him wrench the handful of wands out of Draco’s grasp.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry, his voice carrying through the Hall anyway. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does... I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

Voldemort’s face twisted up into one of rage and he swung his wand around, shouting the two words that could end Harry’s life.

The sound of the collision of the jet of green and the jet of red was like the blast of a cannon, and golden flames erupted from around the two foes.

I saw the Elder Wand soar high into the air just as the snake’s head had and watched as Voldemort hit the floor with a dull thud. Harry stood above him, two wands in his hands, as he looked down on the body whose blood red eyes had rolled back into his head.

There was a beat of silence as everyone soaked in the sight of Voldemort lying dead on the floor of our Great Hall. All I could hear was Harry’s raspy breathing before the crowd erupted into cheers.

And the world that had been black and white for so long suddenly blazed with color.


	45. Chapter 45

Lizzie’s POV:

I turned and gaped at Draco, not believing what had happened.

The sun that had been only just peeking over the horizon rose over a new world, its orange light blazing through the windows.

The warriors swarmed towards Harry, screaming his name and weeping as they pulled him into bone crushing hugs, trying to touch him in some way.

“He’s done it,” Draco muttered, his voice hardly reaching my ears over the thunderous cries from the surrounding crowd. “Bloody hell, I don’t believe it! Harry’s killed Voldemort!”

“He’s killed Voldemort,” I repeated, laughing for the first time in ages through the tears of joy that flooded from my eyes. “We’re free, Draco! We’re free!”

Draco laughed with me, his silver eyes alight with a happiness that I hadn’t ever seen in him. He slipped his arms around my waist and spun me around, drawing even more laughter from my throat. When he set me down, he brought his hands up to my face and became serious. “Marry me,” he whispered, his eyes searching mine. “Marry me, Elizabeth Samuels.”

His words shocked me at first, but once I registered them, I felt a happiness explode inside my body that I never felt before. A silly happiness that warmed me from the inside out and made all fears or worries vanish in a heartbeat. I held his face in my hands just as he was holding mine and grinned a grin wider than ever. “Yes,” I breathed, ignoring the salty tears that leaked into my mouth. “Yes, Draco! A million times yes!” 

His grin mirrored mine and he pressed his lips against mine. The salt of our tears mixing as we kissed with a fervor that made the love in my heart bloom with a fiery burst.

\-----

The sun continued to rise over Hogwarts, lighting the world with its warm rays, and Harry was heralded as our Saviour. He was constantly being hugged or thanked or kissed. I knew he probably wanted nothing more than to sit in a quiet place and sleep, but these survivors needed him. They needed to be reassured that they really were free of Voldemort once and for all.

News of the Imperiused all over the country being freed from their spell soared into the Great Hall with a black owl, along with the announcement that Death Eaters everywhere were escaping of being captured and sent to Azkaban where hundreds of innocent people were being freed. Kingsley Shacklebolt, a war hero, had been named temporary Minister of Magic.

Voldemort’s body had been moved from the Great Hall and locked into a broom closet, away from the fifty or so who had given their lives to defeat him. 

Someone had replaced the House tables, but no one was sitting by Houses. Everyone sat side by side. House elves, centaurs, students, professors, ghosts, and parents were all mixed together, rejoicing in their new freedom of grieving for their lost.

After Voldemort had fallen, Draco and I searched the crowd for Grayson, finding him on the platform where the Head Table used to be, Madam Pomfrey nursing a rather large gash on his upper arm.

“Grayson!” I squeaked upon seeing the blood dripping down his arm. I squatted beside him, wanting to hug him but not wanting to aggravate the wound. I settled for setting a hand on his knee.

“Bloody hell,” Draco murmured, squatting beside me. “What happened?”

“Ever heard of Ardenti Conscidisti?” he asked, hissing as Madam Pomfrey rubbed some dittany paste onto the area.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I frowned, indicating to the bandage that covered my left forearm. “Only got grazed and I about passed out from the pain.”

“‘Burning cut’?” Draco questioned with raised eyebrows, translating the Latin phrase.

“No better way to describe it,” Gray replied.

“It’s like a mild Sectumsempra that burns the flesh too,” I explained. Draco pursed his lips at the mention of the spell that had sliced his abdomen.

“Madam Pomfrey here says I’ll be just fine,” Gray nodded with a shrug. “I’ll just be stuck with a pretty nasty scar.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” Draco spoke kindly, surprising not only me, but Grayson as well.

“You know what?” Gray smiled. “You’re not that bad, Draco.”

“You’re not that bad either,” Draco replied with a smirk, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Lizzie? Draco?” A voice behind us called as a hand touched my shoulder. I stood and saw that it was Neville, who was looking rather beat up and nervous.

“Hey, Neville,” I smiled, glad to see that he was okay for the most part.

“Erm-” he breathed, looking to his feet, “did you guys know Sammy’s last name is Cavanagh?”

I looked to Draco with a confused expression. “No. I suppose it never came up, though. Why?”

“Well,” he gulped, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “his parents, Torrie and Joseph are down there.”

“Oh, where?” I said, looking over his shoulder and searching the crowd below for people that looked like Sammy. “I’d love to meet them.”

“No,” Neville croaked, drawing my attention back to him. His eyes were filling with tears and suddenly I knew what he meant. “They’re- uh- they didn’t make it.”

“Oh no,” I gasped, feeling Draco stiffen beside me.

“He’s- Sammy- He’s on his way now,” Neville explained, ducking his head. “He doesn’t know yet, and I thought that it’d be best for him to hear it from the two of you.”

I tried to respond, but I couldn’t get words around the lump in my throat.

“We’ll let him know,” Draco muttered, saving me the grief.

“Thank you,” Neville replied. “And… I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Draco said, nodding as Neville walked back into the crowd and stopped beside Luna.

“Who’s Sammy?” Grayson asked from behind us. 

“We rescued him from the Carrows,” I told him quietly. “He’s only a second year.”

“Oh,” he frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“We should- erm- we should go wait for him,” I murmured, grabbing Draco’s hand and walking slowly towards the Entrance Hall, which was still stained with blood and covered in chunks of stone and emeralds.

We sat down on the remaining bits of the stairs in silence until the unmistakable sound of the landing of a portkey sounded in our ears. Sammy had arrived holding an old playing card that he tossed to the ground when he saw us because he came running and embraced us with a gleaming smile. “Is he really dead? Did Harry really do it?” he asked.

“Harry really did it,” Draco confirmed, “But Sammy-”

“I’m glad you guys are okay,” Sammy muttered releasing us from his hug. “Are my parents here too?” He looked over our shoulders as if his parents would be waiting there for him, and it broke my heart.

“Sammy,” I choked, trying to hold back tears, “there’s something we need to tell you.”

Sammy, being the smartest, little, 12 year old Ravenclaw I had ever met, knew where we were taking this conversation. His smile disappeared as quickly as a light switch being turned off, and his eyes darkened immensely. “No,” he breathed. “No, tell me it’s not true.”

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Draco sighed. “You’re parents didn’t make it through the-”

He was cut off by a wail from Sammy, who began to gush tears. I reached out and drew him into my arms as Draco wrapped his arms around the both of us.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, cradling Sammy as he let all of his grief out through tears and howls, before his sobs tapered off into hiccups and he pulled back from the embrace, wiping his tears away. His puffy eyes didn’t meet ours when he said, “Can we go see them?”

“Of course,” I replied, standing and taking his hand with a glance towards Draco. He looked as if he were on the verge of tears.

We led Sammy into the Great Hall and knew he had instantly spotted his parents lying in the row of the dead because of his sharp intake of air. He walked towards a man and a woman who were lying side by side and sat down between them, taking one of their hands in his.

They looked just like him.

The woman had long, straight, black hair that would have reached her hips if it weren’t so tangled. Her tan skin matched that of her son’s.

The man had short, brown hair and pale skin, standing out against his family.

Somehow, Sammy managed to keep his tears in, just staring at his parents with grief. “Where will I live?” he asked under his breath. “I have no family.”

This ripped at my heart and I snapped my head towards Draco. “What if we adopt him?” I whispered, keeping my voice low enough so Sammy couldn’t hear. “I mean, if he really doesn’t have any family to take him in, the Ministry will put him in a community home. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew he was living in a community home.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “Lizzie, adopting a kid is a huge thing,” he replied. “It’s not something to be taken lightly.”

“I know,” I muttered, looking back at Sammy, who seemed to be talking to his parents now. “But he’s not really a kid, is he? He’ll spend three quarters of the next five years at Hogwarts and then he’ll be old enough to live on his own. We could just be the home he comes to for the holidays.”

“We don’t even have a home,” he pointed out, also watching Sammy now. “I’m not sure Grayson would like having a kid in his flat and there is no way that I will ever let Sammy near the Manor.”

“We could buy one,” I suggested. “Just a little one outside of London. It doesn’t have to be expensive or anything, just a place to call home.”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, looking at me seriously. “We don’t even know if the Ministry will let us, seeing as we’re Death Eaters.”

I frowned, realizing what he was saying. “You never know until you try.”

“If you’re sure about it,” Draco said with a nod.

I smiled at him and squatted by Sammy. “Hey, Sammy,” I greeted the boy, who had silent tears rolling down his face, “how would you feel about living with me and Draco?”

He gave me a sad smile and nodded.


	46. Epilogue

“If we shadows have offended,  
Think but this, and all is mended-  
That you have but slumbered here  
While these visions did appear.  
And this weak and idle theme,  
No more yielding but a dream,  
Gentles, do not reprehend.  
If you pardon, we will mend.”  
William Shakespeare

 

On the day that they were married, Draco repeated the following:

“Elizabeth Alexandra May Samuels, from the moment you stepped into my train compartment on September first all those years ago, I knew you were going to do something to me. Of course, I never imagined myself standing here today, holding hands with you at our wedding, but I knew you would change me.

“And change me you have. When I look back onto the life we’ve shared just up until today, I see many things. Not only do I see the war and the tears we shed while fighting it, but I see that time we had breakfast in the Hogwarts kitchens on your birthday. I see you in that silver dress you wore to the Christmas ball. I see your face buried in Beauty and the Beast. I see you in that bloody angel costume at the Halloween party.

“My point is that we’ve shared a quarter of a life together so far, and I swear to you that I will enjoy every minute of the life we’ll share after today.”

Lizzie and Draco Malfoy lived long, marvelous lives together.

Sammy was officially adopted into the new family on morning of the 26th of July in the year of 1998.

Their first blood child was born on the 28th of October in the year of 2000, two years after the wedding.

She was given the name Rosalind Narcissa Malfoy.

She received the Malfoy hair and inherited Ella Samuels emerald eyes, but otherwise looked like a carbon copy of Lizzie.

Three years after the birth of little Rosy, the year that Sammy, who now went simply by Sam, finished Hogwarts, the Malfoy’s had twins. 

A pair of identical twin boys who also acquired the Malfoy hair and Ella’s eyes.

They were named Archer Abraxas and Scorpius Hyperion.

They became mischievous enough to give the Weasley twins a go.

Their lives weren’t perfect.

Many still held grudges from the war.

But this family held onto each other with a steel grip.

For never was there a story of woe and love like that of Lizzie and her Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it everyone! That's the end of the last installment of Beauty and the Beast!! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Don't forget to tell your friends about it!
> 
> Thank you so much!!!


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